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 New Zealand and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Kinks 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Hoover,
A Certain Ratio,
Model 500,
UT,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Oneida,
Quantec,
Pylon,
Japan,
The Blackbyrds,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Birthday Party,
Dave Gahan,
Eli Mardock,
The Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Josef K,
Black Sheep,
the Swans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Surgeon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scion,
Harmonia,
The Dave Clark Five,
DNA,
Excepter,
The Victims,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Cale,
Urselle,
Grey Daturas,
LL Cool J,
The Evens,
Mantronix,
Sarah Menescal,
Lower 48,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fat Boys,
Mr. Review,
Kenny Larkin,
The Angels of Light,
Prince Buster,
Eve St. Jones,
R.M.O.,
Hot Snakes,
Yusef Lateef,
Stetsasonic,
Ituana,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pole,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.