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 San Marino and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Masters at Work to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Tres Demented,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Star Department,
Ossler,
Lyres,
Interpol,
Erykah Badu,
Archie Shepp,
Yazoo,
Sarah Menescal,
Reagan Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bad Manners,
Average White Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dead Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rekid,
Liliput,
Moebius,
Shoche,
Guru Guru,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Green,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Infiniti,
Delon & Dalcan,
Motorama,
Pussy Galore,
Swans,
Oblivians,
Stiv Bators,
Soft Machine,
JFA,
Tomorrow,
The Selecter,
The Move,
Camberwell Now,
Metal Thangz,
Underground Resistance,
Al Stewart,
Minutemen,
Pagans,
Dave Gahan,
The Residents,
The Angels of Light,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers,
FM Einheit,
Pierre Henry,
Barry Ungar,
The Dirtbombs,
John Lydon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Donny Hathaway,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Walker Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Almond,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.