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 Costa Rica and from Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
Leonard Cohen,
Harmonia,
Amon Düül II,
Jerry's Kids,
Cybotron,
Skarface,
Soul Sonic Force,
kango's stein massive,
Mad Mike,
Talk Talk,
Vainqueur,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sister Nancy,
The Happenings,
Tropical Tobacco,
Glambeats Corp.,
Half Japanese,
Boz Scaggs,
Khruangbin,
Eurythmics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Banda Bassotti,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Foxx,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Zapp,
Barry Ungar,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Simply Red,
Unrelated Segments,
Neu!,
The Leaves,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ken Boothe,
Cameo,
Black Bananas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deadbeat,
Suicide,
The Electric Prunes,
Infiniti,
Crooked Eye,
The Blues Magoos,
Moss Icon,
Isaac Hayes,
Inner City,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scan 7,
Slick Rick,
Jesper Dahlback,
Chris Corsano,
Intrusion,
Stiv Bators,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.