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 Monaco and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bootsy Collins,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
Schoolly D,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Evens,
The Five Americans,
Quadrant,
Harmonia,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Stooges,
The Electric Prunes,
Youth Brigade,
Colin Newman,
Babytalk,
Franke,
Pole,
Joe Finger,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Green,
E-Dancer,
Arab on Radar,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Delon & Dalcan,
DJ Sneak,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Doors,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Toasters,
Gong,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Byrd,
Ossler,
Fatback Band,
The J.B.'s,
Howard Jones,
Boz Scaggs,
Deepchord,
Carl Craig,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Girls At Our Best!,
Country Teasers,
Anthony Braxton,
Niagra,
Suicide,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
Amazonics,
Eric Copeland,
the Bar-Kays,
Sex Pistols,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dennis Brown,
Half Japanese,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.