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 Argentina and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Roxette,
Desert Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Byron Stingily,
Darondo,
Chris Corsano,
Wire,
Technova,
Crash Course in Science,
Magazine,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Pop Group,
Terry Callier,
These Immortal Souls,
LL Cool J,
Bootsy Collins,
Banda Bassotti,
Alphaville,
Agitation Free,
Carl Craig,
Slave,
H. Thieme,
Black Bananas,
48th St. Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
Connie Case,
Lalann,
Kaleidoscope,
The Pretty Things,
Lightning Bolt,
Rufus Thomas,
The Litter,
Half Japanese,
The Offenders,
Faust,
Hashim,
Howard Jones,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
Suicide,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Sonics,
Easy Going,
Accadde A,
Rapeman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-Ray Spex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Erasure,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sällskapet,
Bob Dylan,
Heaven 17,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Trojans,
Camberwell Now,
Guru Guru,
The Searchers,
Joensuu 1685,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.