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 Qatar and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gang of Four to the rock 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Erykah Badu,
Mr. Review,
ABBA,
Eli Mardock,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The J.B.'s,
Nico,
Urselle,
The Martian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Matthew Halsall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fire Engines,
Max Romeo,
Don Cherry,
The Fuzztones,
Girls At Our Best!,
A Certain Ratio,
The Cowsills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Skarface,
The Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
Infiniti,
Vainqueur,
Nik Kershaw,
the Normal,
Depeche Mode,
Barry Ungar,
Deepchord,
Isaac Hayes,
the Sonics,
Leonard Cohen,
Howard Jones,
B.T. Express,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hot Snakes,
Khruangbin,
Cal Tjader,
The Knickerbockers,
Chris Corsano,
Loose Ends,
Organ,
Royal Trux,
The Toasters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Marc Almond,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Babytalk,
Davy DMX,
Camouflage,
Siglo XX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Electric Prunes,
MDC,
Chris & Cosey,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.