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 Samoa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
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 linndrum 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 KRS-One to the disco 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Terry Callier,
Joey Negro,
Make Up,
Fugazi,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Agitation Free,
Lucky Dragons,
Quadrant,
Dennis Brown,
Ultra Naté,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oneida,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harmonia,
Camberwell Now,
The Selecter,
Unwound,
Cheater Slicks,
MDC,
Blancmange,
OOIOO,
Dual Sessions,
Maurizio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cal Tjader,
Wally Richardson,
The Happenings,
Tommy Roe,
The Move,
Alphaville,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Piero Umiliani,
Sparks,
Television Personalities,
New Order,
Von Mondo,
Tom Boy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jeff Lynne,
Magazine,
Moebius,
The Velvet Underground,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Nico,
Soul II Soul,
Altered Images,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Surgeon,
Goldenarms,
Arcadia,
China Crisis,
Khruangbin,
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.