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 Portugal and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-Ray Spex to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Move,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spandau Ballet,
The Young Rascals,
Newcleus,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tom Boy,
Circle Jerks,
Sound Behaviour,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Cale,
Ohio Players,
Guru Guru,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Christie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angry Samoans,
DJ Sneak,
Jandek,
The Busters,
New York Dolls,
Leonard Cohen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barbara Tucker,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Music Machine,
The Angels of Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Five Americans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Funky Four + One,
The Beau Brummels,
Anakelly,
Ronan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fuzztones,
The Monochrome Set,
Smog,
Roy Ayers,
Loose Ends,
UT,
In Retrospect,
Kayak,
Ten City,
The Slits,
Supertramp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sparks,
Japan,
John Foxx,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.