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 Poland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pantytec to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric B and Rakim,
L. Decosne,
The Black Dice,
Cal Tjader,
Fear,
The Blues Magoos,
K-Klass,
Frankie Knuckles,
Los Fastidios,
Graham Central Station,
In Retrospect,
Camberwell Now,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aaron Thompson,
Marine Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Idris Muhammad,
The Saints,
Cluster,
Jandek,
Ossler,
AZ,
Pere Ubu,
Ituana,
Skaos,
Malaria!,
Kayak,
Flamin' Groovies,
Amon Düül,
Thompson Twins,
Fluxion,
Funkadelic,
Skarface,
Tommy Roe,
Toni Rubio,
Mr. Review,
Roger Hodgson,
Carl Craig,
Technova,
Franke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monks,
The Techniques,
Ultra Naté,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter & Gordon,
Charles Mingus,
Dawn Penn,
Shoche,
T. Rex,
James White and The Blacks,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeff Mills,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare,
U.S. Maple,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.