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 Cape Verde and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alarm Clocks to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Depeche Mode,
Maurizio,
The Tremeloes,
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
Flipper,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Toasters,
Supertramp,
Lalann,
Ludus,
EPMD,
Fugazi,
The Divine Comedy,
Make Up,
Eli Mardock,
Section 25,
The Happenings,
The American Breed,
The Buckinghams,
Pantytec,
Index,
New York Dolls,
Bang On A Can,
Grey Daturas,
a-ha,
Ten City,
Eric Copeland,
Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Model 500,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fortunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Erasure,
Arab on Radar,
The Sound,
Excepter,
The Count Five,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Frankie Knuckles,
Skarface,
Television,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
Metal Thangz,
Tears for Fears,
Chrome,
China Crisis,
Von Mondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Soft Cell,
DJ Style,
Carl Craig,
Echospace,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Country Teasers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Smog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.