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 Portugal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 Althea and Donna to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '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 Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
the Association,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Au Pairs,
The Evens,
Roxette,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
The Modern Lovers,
Subhumans,
Henry Cow,
Yellowson,
Brass Construction,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sarah Menescal,
Gang Green,
Hasil Adkins,
Scientists,
Soul II Soul,
Todd Rundgren,
Al Stewart,
Bronski Beat,
Janne Schatter,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Human League,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Skriet,
Ken Boothe,
Joey Negro,
The Star Department,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moby Grape,
Jerry's Kids,
Yaz,
Derrick May,
John Coltrane,
Moss Icon,
Organ,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Monks,
Kurtis Blow,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Clarke,
Franke,
Tom Boy,
D'Angelo,
Outsiders,
Howard Jones,
Sandy B,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Seeds,
Crooked Eye,
Black Sheep,
Boz Scaggs,
Glenn Branca,
The Slits,
Babytalk,
Rod Modell,
Oblivians,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.