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 Iran and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 J.B.'s to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
the Soft Cell,
48th St. Collective,
Aswad,
the Bar-Kays,
Eve St. Jones,
Tres Demented,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Prunes,
FM Einheit,
A Certain Ratio,
Marine Girls,
Pole,
Ituana,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Brand Nubian,
Bill Near,
World's Most,
Visage,
Outsiders,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Arab on Radar,
Inner City,
Liliput,
The Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
10cc,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dave Gahan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Faust,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Half Japanese,
Second Layer,
Don Cherry,
Young Marble Giants,
Monks,
Zapp,
Infiniti,
Massinfluence,
Terry Callier,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rapeman,
Buzzcocks,
Idris Muhammad,
Donald Byrd,
Amon Düül II,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Al Stewart,
Steve Hackett,
Ornette Coleman,
T. Rex,
The Techniques,
Drexciya,
Man Parrish,
the Sonics,
The Residents,
Neu!,
The Names,
Cecil Taylor,
Duran Duran,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.