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 Marshall Islands and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar 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 Porter Ricks to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
John Holt,
Electric Prunes,
Howard Jones,
Mars,
Deepchord,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gories,
Cybotron,
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Swans,
The Human League,
Japan,
Chrome,
Blake Baxter,
The Mummies,
David Bowie,
PIL,
Hasil Adkins,
Erasure,
Eurythmics,
Boredoms,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eve St. Jones,
Arcadia,
The Dead C,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Malaria!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Monolake,
Eli Mardock,
Skarface,
Brick,
The Tremeloes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Leaves,
Cheater Slicks,
E-Dancer,
Man Parrish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Banda Bassotti,
Sonny Sharrock,
Country Teasers,
Pagans,
Dawn Penn,
Soft Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Tim Buckley,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.