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 Slovakia and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Davy DMX to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
The Zeros,
The Blues Magoos,
Duran Duran,
The Music Machine,
Boredoms,
Roger Hodgson,
Pussy Galore,
Lakeside,
Danielle Patucci,
the Association,
Harry Pussy,
China Crisis,
Oneida,
The Fall,
Icehouse,
Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
Letta Mbulu,
Intrusion,
Monks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultimate Spinach,
Connie Case,
the Sonics,
Severed Heads,
Banda Bassotti,
Alton Ellis,
Interpol,
Davy DMX,
Cheater Slicks,
10cc,
Trumans Water,
Kurtis Blow,
Jawbox,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Glenn Branca,
David Bowie,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Pus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T. Rex,
The Angels of Light,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Moby Grape,
The Neon Judgement,
Von Mondo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bootsy Collins,
The Index,
Infiniti,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rod Modell,
UT,
Newcleus,
Reagan Youth,
Slave,
Blancmange,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.