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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Real Kids to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Grass Roots,
Josef K,
The Index,
The Walker Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
DNA,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Q65,
Bauhaus,
The Skatalites,
Drive Like Jehu,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brick,
Henry Cow,
Visage,
Malaria!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Interpol,
The Doobie Brothers,
Organ,
Crash Course in Science,
Make Up,
DJ Style,
Aloha Tigers,
Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ponytail,
Banda Bassotti,
Dual Sessions,
Amazonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
10cc,
Radio Birdman,
Stetsasonic,
The Neon Judgement,
FM Einheit,
Crispy Ambulance,
Inner City,
The Leaves,
The Mummies,
The Raincoats,
Junior Murvin,
Infiniti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wire,
John Coltrane,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lindisfarne,
Mars,
Agent Orange,
Aswad,
Dave Gahan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy Collins,
Khruangbin,
Outsiders,
Warsaw,
Public Image Ltd.,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.