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 Gabon and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Cymande to the techno 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed,
The Toasters,
Swans,
Idris Muhammad,
Hot Snakes,
Simply Red,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Young Marble Giants,
The Associates,
The Kinks,
Tom Boy,
DJ Sneak,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dave Gahan,
The Index,
Swell Maps,
Steve Hackett,
the Slits,
Soulsonic Force,
Yusef Lateef,
The Skatalites,
Grey Daturas,
Saccharine Trust,
H. Thieme,
Scott Walker,
John Foxx,
Shoche,
Drexciya,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
UT,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
10cc,
Bob Dylan,
Barbara Tucker,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radiopuhelimet,
Quando Quango,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dawn Penn,
Kool Moe Dee,
CMW,
Wasted Youth,
Michelle Simonal,
Amon Düül,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jeff Mills,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Fraelich,
Marmalade,
Urselle,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.