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 Tuvalu and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Quando Quango to the funk 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Spandau Ballet,
Mark Hollis,
The Doors,
Second Layer,
The J.B.'s,
Black Pus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Swans,
Ludus,
The Searchers,
Donny Hathaway,
Siglo XX,
The Real Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Hot Snakes,
Amon Düül,
Lower 48,
The Techniques,
Swans,
Sparks,
Cymande,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Underground Resistance,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Severed Heads,
Gastr Del Sol,
Don Cherry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ohio Players,
Lyres,
Toni Rubio,
Slave,
Howard Jones,
Faust,
FM Einheit,
Mary Jane Girls,
Duran Duran,
Zapp,
Bob Dylan,
Essential Logic,
The Blues Magoos,
Fatback Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
World's Most,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nils Olav,
Jerry's Kids,
Steve Hackett,
Livin' Joy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Peter & Gordon,
Pere Ubu,
Lakeside,
Grey Daturas,
June Days,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.