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 Egypt and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar 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 The Human League to the electroclash 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
F. McDonald,
Judy Mowatt,
Cheater Slicks,
The Techniques,
Blake Baxter,
Nik Kershaw,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fad Gadget,
The Velvet Underground,
OOIOO,
Y Pants,
D'Angelo,
Swell Maps,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Durutti Column,
Ronnie Foster,
Sixth Finger,
Tres Demented,
Sex Pistols,
the Germs,
The Victims,
The Grass Roots,
Ohio Players,
The Blues Magoos,
Laurel Aitken,
Shoche,
Subhumans,
Janne Schatter,
The Monochrome Set,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Smooth,
The Trojans,
Model 500,
The Vogues,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hoover,
Radio Birdman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Rundgren,
Drive Like Jehu,
Massinfluence,
Derrick Morgan,
Junior Murvin,
The Five Americans,
The Skatalites,
Thee Headcoats,
Icehouse,
Minor Threat,
Fear,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quadrant,
The Beau Brummels,
Scan 7,
Don Cherry,
Sparks,
Avey Tare,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.