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 Georgia and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Tears for Fears to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Bowie,
Sex Pistols,
Model 500,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dawn Penn,
ABC,
Black Moon,
Maleditus Sound,
Mantronix,
The Toasters,
Adolescents,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
Sam Rivers,
Public Enemy,
Graham Central Station,
Howard Jones,
Stetsasonic,
a-ha,
Funkadelic,
The Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Marvin Gaye,
Pole,
EPMD,
Echospace,
The Detroit Cobras,
Henry Cow,
Bill Wells,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DJ Sneak,
The Monks,
The Selecter,
Scott Walker,
Suburban Knight,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Robert Wyatt,
Joey Negro,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minutemen,
Jerry's Kids,
The Motions,
The Happenings,
Lyres,
The Modern Lovers,
Maurizio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Hood,
The Music Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Bauhaus,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.