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 Ethiopia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator 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 Malaria! to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Ultravox,
Siglo XX,
Smog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Guru Guru,
Mo-Dettes,
Young Marble Giants,
The Remains,
LL Cool J,
Robert Görl,
Make Up,
T. Rex,
ABBA,
Television Personalities,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Standells,
Arab on Radar,
The Fugs,
Circle Jerks,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed,
Scott Walker,
Franke,
The Last Poets,
Dual Sessions,
Amazonics,
The Slackers,
Soft Machine,
JFA,
Bad Manners,
Suicide,
Suburban Knight,
Arcadia,
Groovy Waters,
Skarface,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Martian,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donny Hathaway,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Little Man,
Al Stewart,
Lightning Bolt,
Nico,
Q65,
Tears for Fears,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Intrusion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Magma,
Depeche Mode,
The Modern Lovers,
The Victims,
Nick Fraelich,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.