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 Venezuela and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ 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 Warren Ellis to the jazz 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 Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Ken Boothe,
The Cramps,
Supertramp,
The United States of America,
The Angels of Light,
Arcadia,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Almond,
Scrapy,
Ossler,
Circle Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jerry's Kids,
Intrusion,
Fad Gadget,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Hoover,
Mission of Burma,
Max Romeo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mary Jane Girls,
David McCallum,
Sandy B,
Cheater Slicks,
Dave Gahan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Severed Heads,
Black Bananas,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Womack,
Y Pants,
Steve Hackett,
Lakeside,
Ultra Naté,
Nik Kershaw,
Rufus Thomas,
John Foxx,
David Bowie,
Japan,
Youth Brigade,
Whodini,
New York Dolls,
Morten Harket,
Eli Mardock,
Danielle Patucci,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ohio Players,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Electric Prunes,
The Modern Lovers,
Pole,
Byron Stingily,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
F. McDonald,
10cc,
Kenny Larkin,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.