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 Romania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 Babytalk to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Sarah Menescal,
The Monks,
Minor Threat,
Bill Near,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eve St. Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare,
Susan Cadogan,
Aural Exciters,
Tubeway Army,
Technova,
Basic Channel,
Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
the Human League,
The Remains,
KRS-One,
Al Stewart,
Bang On A Can,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hot Snakes,
The Golliwogs,
Gil Scott Heron,
UT,
Organ,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cameo,
Trumans Water,
Soft Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dirtbombs,
the Normal,
Scrapy,
Nick Fraelich,
Panda Bear,
Lower 48,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Invisible,
Crooked Eye,
Q and Not U,
Scan 7,
Ohio Players,
Matthew Bourne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Glenn Branca,
Dead Boys,
The Real Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
Anakelly,
Alison Limerick,
Amon Düül,
Eddi Front,
CMW,
China Crisis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arcadia,
Gang Starr,
Letta Mbulu,
DJ Sneak,
Kaleidoscope,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.