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 Jordan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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?
The J.B.'s,
Alphaville,
Harry Pussy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fall,
The Doors,
Excepter,
The Trojans,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
UT,
Rotary Connection,
The Cure,
The Five Americans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vladislav Delay,
Kevin Saunderson,
Suicide,
Slick Rick,
Grey Daturas,
Eric Copeland,
Nils Olav,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scion,
Tears for Fears,
Livin' Joy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Letta Mbulu,
Moebius,
Eric Dolphy,
AZ,
Organ,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Desert Stars,
Dave Gahan,
Wings,
Sun Ra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moody Blues,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Donald Byrd,
Maleditus Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Blossom Toes,
Groovy Waters,
Accadde A,
Pussy Galore,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scientists,
The Sound,
Gong,
The Fugs,
Johnny Clarke,
Severed Heads,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.