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 Nepal and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bob Dylan to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
OOIOO,
Maurizio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Motions,
Grauzone,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pere Ubu,
The Offenders,
Anakelly,
June Days,
Faust,
Junior Murvin,
The Move,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
DJ Sneak,
The Vogues,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eli Mardock,
10cc,
Roxette,
The Smoke,
The Durutti Column,
Curtis Mayfield,
Henry Cow,
Livin' Joy,
The Toasters,
Bobby Byrd,
Soulsonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Franke,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Don Cherry,
Japan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Victims,
Television,
Negative Approach,
Maleditus Sound,
The Index,
Dawn Penn,
Moebius,
Roger Hodgson,
Arcadia,
Section 25,
Main Source,
Desert Stars,
David Axelrod,
Moby Grape,
Symarip,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fat Boys,
The Five Americans,
Brick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.