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 Samoa and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 The Mojo Men to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Grauzone,
Cymande,
Flash Fearless,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fuzztones,
Ten City,
Los Fastidios,
Rekid,
Al Stewart,
Angry Samoans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Matthew Bourne,
Dead Boys,
Whodini,
Unrelated Segments,
Simply Red,
Pylon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Juan Atkins,
Wings,
The Walker Brothers,
LL Cool J,
Negative Approach,
David Axelrod,
Funky Four + One,
Pagans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Circle Jerks,
the Sonics,
Television,
The Techniques,
Brick,
Shuggie Otis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Blackbyrds,
Rites of Spring,
Fluxion,
Roxy Music,
Lindisfarne,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Normal,
Can,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Judy Mowatt,
Hoover,
JFA,
Roxette,
Harpers Bizarre,
Godley & Creme,
Con Funk Shun,
Blancmange,
Joyce Sims,
Traffic Nightmare,
T.S.O.L.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.