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 Mongolia and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eurythmics to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Qualms,
Iggy Pop,
The Dirtbombs,
Drexciya,
The Searchers,
The Names,
Nico,
Soulsonic Force,
Sexual Harrassment,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Modern Lovers,
The Trojans,
Freddie Wadling,
Janne Schatter,
A Certain Ratio,
Rites of Spring,
Das Ding,
David Axelrod,
The Toasters,
Joe Smooth,
Dark Day,
DJ Style,
The Residents,
Quando Quango,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erasure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yellowson,
World's Most,
Ronan,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The American Breed,
The Blackbyrds,
Bauhaus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ossler,
Soul Sonic Force,
Shoche,
Symarip,
X-102,
The Fortunes,
Eric Copeland,
Masters at Work,
Procol Harum,
Marvin Gaye,
Henry Cow,
The Tremeloes,
Average White Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Monks,
Todd Terry,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scott Walker,
Brand Nubian,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.