Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bahrain and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Scrapy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
KRS-One,
Siglo XX,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lungfish,
Kerri Chandler,
Absolute Body Control,
The Raincoats,
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dirtbombs,
The Skatalites,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun Ra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moby Grape,
Black Bananas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crooked Eye,
The J.B.'s,
Connie Case,
Joensuu 1685,
Eddi Front,
Dennis Brown,
Yazoo,
Hot Snakes,
Pole,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anakelly,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Lyres,
Avey Tare,
Altered Images,
Oblivians,
The Velvet Underground,
Pere Ubu,
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
Andrew Hill,
Toni Rubio,
Dave Gahan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Moon,
Severed Heads,
Underground Resistance,
Sex Pistols,
Cal Tjader,
Half Japanese,
Electric Prunes,
The Slackers,
Kenny Larkin,
Sällskapet,
The New Christs,
The Star Department,
The Golliwogs,
The Pop Group,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.