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 Djibouti and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Velvet Underground to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Pussy Galore,
The Gap Band,
the Sonics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Zapp,
The Associates,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Q and Not U,
the Soft Cell,
Bronski Beat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Spandau Ballet,
Kaleidoscope,
Moss Icon,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper,
The Martian,
The Dirtbombs,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blackbyrds,
LL Cool J,
Bootsy Collins,
Brass Construction,
FM Einheit,
Harpers Bizarre,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gun Club,
Joey Negro,
Connie Case,
Stiv Bators,
Angry Samoans,
Scratch Acid,
Tears for Fears,
Cybotron,
The Divine Comedy,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slackers,
Electric Prunes,
Rufus Thomas,
Peter and Kerry,
The Dead C,
Subhumans,
Hoover,
Flash Fearless,
Roy Ayers,
Robert Görl,
Scientists,
kango's stein massive,
The Fortunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Eden Ahbez,
Sällskapet,
Motorama,
Fela Kuti,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed,
Judy Mowatt,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Vainqueur,
Easy Going,
Jawbox,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.