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 Jamaica and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Last Poets,
John Foxx,
Kenny Larkin,
Cal Tjader,
Slave,
Mark Hollis,
Trumans Water,
Graham Central Station,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blancmange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Association,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hardrive,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pretty Things,
The Slits,
Piero Umiliani,
Letta Mbulu,
Whodini,
Lucky Dragons,
The Index,
Connie Case,
Derrick May,
Quando Quango,
Chris Corsano,
Aaron Thompson,
Oblivians,
Godley & Creme,
This Heat,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Names,
The Busters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cowsills,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nik Kershaw,
Metal Thangz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Franke,
Sound Behaviour,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eurythmics,
The Blackbyrds,
A Certain Ratio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wings,
Camberwell Now,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Slick Rick,
Mantronix,
the Swans,
PIL,
Easy Going,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.