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 Laos and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Agitation Free to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Youth Brigade,
the Bar-Kays,
Harry Pussy,
Eli Mardock,
Gang of Four,
Can,
48th St. Collective,
The Young Rascals,
Eurythmics,
The Tremeloes,
Pharoah Sanders,
The American Breed,
Henry Cow,
Easy Going,
Steve Hackett,
Pet Shop Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
U.S. Maple,
Scott Walker,
Porter Ricks,
Soul II Soul,
James White and The Blacks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Slave,
The Fortunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Franke,
David McCallum,
Mission of Burma,
Black Flag,
Gang Green,
Bob Dylan,
Goldenarms,
Matthew Halsall,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare,
Camouflage,
Anthony Braxton,
Rosa Yemen,
Arcadia,
DJ Sneak,
David Bowie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Interpol,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Cell,
Byron Stingily,
Archie Shepp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Zapp,
Make Up,
Maurizio,
Minutemen,
Todd Terry,
Skaos,
The Grass Roots,
Magazine,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.