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 Liechtenstein and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Country Teasers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Ice-T,
Goldenarms,
The Standells,
Popol Vuh,
Absolute Body Control,
The Wake,
Mantronix,
The Slackers,
Crime,
The Dead C,
Shuggie Otis,
The Stooges,
Barry Ungar,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cybotron,
John Holt,
Jeff Lynne,
MC5,
The J.B.'s,
the Association,
Sam Rivers,
Mars,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
June of 44,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dawn Penn,
The Trojans,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slave,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Seeds,
Q65,
Schoolly D,
The Real Kids,
R.M.O.,
The Human League,
Hashim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Khruangbin,
Bill Wells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blake Baxter,
Althea and Donna,
Skriet,
Harry Pussy,
Lalann,
Toni Rubio,
The Busters,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
The Cramps,
Sugar Minott,
Ohio Players,
Television,
Malaria!,
Youth Brigade,
Morten Harket,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.