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 Uganda and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Iggy Pop to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Matthew Bourne,
The Smoke,
The Busters,
The Searchers,
Ohio Players,
Crash Course in Science,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monochrome Set,
The Standells,
Radiohead,
Ronnie Foster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Motions,
Interpol,
Cheater Slicks,
Outsiders,
Warren Ellis,
Neu!,
R.M.O.,
John Holt,
Fugazi,
Electric Prunes,
The Modern Lovers,
Mo-Dettes,
Blossom Toes,
Soft Machine,
Josef K,
the Germs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shuggie Otis,
Magma,
Marc Almond,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rod Modell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
ABC,
OOIOO,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Grass Roots,
Brothers Johnson,
Yellowson,
Little Man,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wally Richardson,
Flipper,
Yaz,
Subhumans,
The Red Krayola,
Delta 5,
Mad Mike,
Dead Boys,
Suburban Knight,
The Music Machine,
The Fuzztones,
New Age Steppers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.