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 Korea North and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the crunk 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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Steve Hackett,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Monochrome Set,
Young Marble Giants,
Chris Corsano,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
David Bowie,
Kerri Chandler,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Invisible,
Wasted Youth,
The Golliwogs,
June Days,
Glambeats Corp.,
Todd Rundgren,
Funky Four + One,
Spandau Ballet,
Marine Girls,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Sherman,
Ten City,
Brass Construction,
Intrusion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Circle Jerks,
Tim Buckley,
KRS-One,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Flag,
Hot Snakes,
Rites of Spring,
Juan Atkins,
The Gap Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Japan,
Slave,
The Toasters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
H. Thieme,
Pole,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Surgeon,
Arab on Radar,
John Coltrane,
Parry Music,
The Selecter,
Harry Pussy,
Anakelly,
LL Cool J,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Holt,
John Lydon,
The Beau Brummels,
The Names,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.