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 Belize and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pole to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
The Buckinghams,
Duran Duran,
Fat Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kaleidoscope,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Moleskins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pagans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Piero Umiliani,
Faust,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thompson Twins,
Joe Finger,
Pere Ubu,
The Stooges,
The Monochrome Set,
Freddie Wadling,
Moebius,
Dark Day,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Echospace,
The Fire Engines,
Sandy B,
48th St. Collective,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Matthew Bourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Adolescents,
Black Bananas,
Suburban Knight,
MDC,
Dawn Penn,
Faraquet,
The Walker Brothers,
Goldenarms,
cv313,
Funky Four + One,
Suicide,
Barry Ungar,
the Sonics,
Metal Thangz,
DJ Style,
Swans,
Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Sheep,
Minutemen,
Outsiders,
Can,
Franke,
Gang Starr,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nils Olav,
Infiniti,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.