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 Madagascar and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Slackers to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Arcadia,
Procol Harum,
Chris Corsano,
Qualms,
Zapp,
Juan Atkins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rosa Yemen,
Trumans Water,
Slave,
Bobby Sherman,
Dawn Penn,
Eurythmics,
the Soft Cell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ten City,
Ponytail,
Pylon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fugazi,
MC5,
Absolute Body Control,
Vainqueur,
Minny Pops,
Joey Negro,
Black Bananas,
Das Ding,
The Pop Group,
The Young Rascals,
Sugar Minott,
Cluster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Average White Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Sonic Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Eric Dolphy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Excepter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Slick Rick,
Sex Pistols,
Girls At Our Best!,
K-Klass,
Ohio Players,
Aaron Thompson,
Danielle Patucci,
Barry Ungar,
Eric Copeland,
Smog,
Livin' Joy,
Thee Headcoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Severed Heads,
Letta Mbulu,
The Litter,
Warsaw,
The Real Kids,
Kaleidoscope,
Tropical Tobacco,
Goldenarms,
Robert Görl,
Jeru the Damaja,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.