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 Hungary and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Lou Reed 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 Wasted Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas 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?
Mo-Dettes,
Jeff Lynne,
Michelle Simonal,
Rapeman,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Zeros,
Desert Stars,
Al Stewart,
Negative Approach,
Unrelated Segments,
World's Most,
The Martian,
Harry Pussy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
David Axelrod,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Five Americans,
The Pretty Things,
One Last Wish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Colin Newman,
Masters at Work,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cramps,
Fat Boys,
Funkadelic,
The Fugs,
Monolake,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Popol Vuh,
L. Decosne,
David Bowie,
Max Romeo,
Metal Thangz,
the Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Little Man,
Outsiders,
Skaos,
the Association,
Jerry's Kids,
China Crisis,
Lower 48,
Derrick May,
Warsaw,
The Misunderstood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pulsallama,
Henry Cow,
Whodini,
Amazonics,
Can,
Tres Demented,
Pole,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dual Sessions,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.