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 Greece and from Cairo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 The Blues Magoos to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Reagan Youth,
The Zeros,
The Beau Brummels,
The Last Poets,
The Fortunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
This Heat,
Laurel Aitken,
Ludus,
Kayak,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Maleditus Sound,
The Pop Group,
Oneida,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Brass Construction,
Anakelly,
New Order,
Brothers Johnson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mo-Dettes,
Josef K,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Talk Talk,
Robert Wyatt,
Y Pants,
48th St. Collective,
Qualms,
Lakeside,
Moss Icon,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
The Remains,
Arcadia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yaz,
Hoover,
The Five Americans,
Soft Machine,
JFA,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gabor Szabo,
Pussy Galore,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hot Snakes,
Subhumans,
Marine Girls,
Icehouse,
Ten City,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lyres,
The New Christs,
Mars,
The Saints,
Jeff Mills,
Joey Negro,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ornette Coleman,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.