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 Tonga and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 Aaron Thompson to the grunge 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Magazine,
the Association,
Essential Logic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Raincoats,
The American Breed,
U.S. Maple,
The Smoke,
The Names,
Dead Boys,
Marmalade,
Camberwell Now,
The Star Department,
The Cramps,
Lalann,
Oblivians,
Unwound,
Jeff Mills,
The Move,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roy Ayers,
Sex Pistols,
Mark Hollis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Görl,
Absolute Body Control,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Make Up,
Bizarre Inc.,
Stiv Bators,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jeff Lynne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Normal,
Spandau Ballet,
The Invisible,
Accadde A,
Wire,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pole,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Suburban Knight,
Sällskapet,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
Fat Boys,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.