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 Nepal and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 Tropical Tobacco to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Minor Threat,
Donald Byrd,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soul II Soul,
Dawn Penn,
Rosa Yemen,
Tubeway Army,
Make Up,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gun Club,
T.S.O.L.,
Khruangbin,
Lungfish,
John Holt,
Reagan Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young,
the Sonics,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed,
Surgeon,
Bang On A Can,
LL Cool J,
Audionom,
Joensuu 1685,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mo-Dettes,
James White and The Blacks,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Barracudas,
Pussy Galore,
H. Thieme,
The Cramps,
The Residents,
The Mojo Men,
Zero Boys,
The Martian,
Suicide,
Brothers Johnson,
Oblivians,
Max Romeo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nico,
The Durutti Column,
Babytalk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aural Exciters,
Cameo,
Minutemen,
Throbbing Gristle,
Newcleus,
Agent Orange,
Con Funk Shun,
The Pop Group,
Q65,
Wolf Eyes,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.