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 Morocco and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tears for Fears to the electroclash 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
The Offenders,
The Black Dice,
Monks,
The Trojans,
Eddi Front,
Wings,
MC5,
Junior Murvin,
Wasted Youth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
UT,
Interpol,
Alton Ellis,
Moby Grape,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Kinks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sight & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Wake,
Popol Vuh,
The J.B.'s,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Wolf Eyes,
Eve St. Jones,
Flash Fearless,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hashim,
Infiniti,
The Selecter,
Whodini,
Rufus Thomas,
Zapp,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Prince Buster,
John Lydon,
FM Einheit,
Lower 48,
Scion,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rekid,
Ornette Coleman,
One Last Wish,
Deepchord,
June of 44,
Icehouse,
Drive Like Jehu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Echospace,
The Cramps,
Blancmange,
Bad Manners,
June Days,
Ten City,
Silicon Teens,
The Velvet Underground,
the Soft Cell,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.