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 Ireland and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Association to the punk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
The Grass Roots,
Suburban Knight,
Dark Day,
Eden Ahbez,
Scion,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Dolphy,
Country Teasers,
Accadde A,
Gong,
Pantaleimon,
Joyce Sims,
Kerri Chandler,
Saccharine Trust,
Liliput,
Ten City,
Barrington Levy,
Roxette,
Howard Jones,
L. Decosne,
Godley & Creme,
Spoonie Gee,
The Move,
the Normal,
Scott Walker,
The Kinks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New Age Steppers,
The Barracudas,
Soul Sonic Force,
48th St. Collective,
Iggy Pop,
Soft Cell,
Basic Channel,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Make Up,
Minutemen,
Colin Newman,
ABBA,
Joe Finger,
Marine Girls,
Mission of Burma,
Oneida,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Subhumans,
Sex Pistols,
Soul II Soul,
Prince Buster,
The Motions,
Pere Ubu,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Wake,
Robert Görl,
Yazoo,
Theoretical Girls,
The Real Kids,
the Association,
The Gladiators,
X-Ray Spex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.