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 Argentina and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Graham Central Station 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
AZ,
Hoover,
The Fortunes,
LL Cool J,
Organ,
Mars,
Tears for Fears,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Television Personalities,
The Pretty Things,
The Standells,
The Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Young Rascals,
Bill Wells,
Easy Going,
Nick Fraelich,
The Moody Blues,
Royal Trux,
This Heat,
Rakim,
The Golliwogs,
The Blues Magoos,
Pantytec,
Sugar Minott,
The Raincoats,
Pulsallama,
Pole,
Blossom Toes,
Sound Behaviour,
Von Mondo,
Gang Starr,
Leonard Cohen,
Alphaville,
the Swans,
Skriet,
Scratch Acid,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
Fugazi,
Sun City Girls,
F. McDonald,
Wasted Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Birthday Party,
Altered Images,
Drive Like Jehu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerri Chandler,
The Walker Brothers,
Donny Hathaway,
Joyce Sims,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mojo Men,
Buzzcocks,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.