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 Micronesia and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Popol Vuh to the electroclash 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Trojans,
Slick Rick,
Susan Cadogan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ohio Players,
Camouflage,
X-102,
Judy Mowatt,
Andrew Hill,
Agent Orange,
H. Thieme,
Henry Cow,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dawn Penn,
The Saints,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Durutti Column,
The Last Poets,
Todd Rundgren,
Chris Corsano,
Moss Icon,
Deadbeat,
Public Enemy,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
World's Most,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crime,
Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
Niagra,
Japan,
Excepter,
cv313,
Banda Bassotti,
Average White Band,
Pagans,
the Germs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Peter and Kerry,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
B.T. Express,
The Knickerbockers,
Mr. Review,
Ronan,
Hoover,
the Swans,
Audionom,
LL Cool J,
Mandrill,
The Moleskins,
Roger Hodgson,
Sparks,
Simply Red,
Sex Pistols,
Black Moon,
Amazonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.