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 Kyrgyzstan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Excepter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
The Knickerbockers,
Gong,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Move,
Subhumans,
Thee Headcoats,
Khruangbin,
Fela Kuti,
Au Pairs,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fugs,
Siglo XX,
X-102,
Pierre Henry,
Sandy B,
The Happenings,
Roxette,
The Fire Engines,
Moss Icon,
MDC,
Kool Moe Dee,
B.T. Express,
London Community Gospel Choir,
D'Angelo,
Jacques Brel,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Moon,
The Names,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soul II Soul,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Infiniti,
Marvin Gaye,
Ituana,
Sex Pistols,
Section 25,
Eli Mardock,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Los Fastidios,
A Certain Ratio,
Lyres,
Boogie Down Productions,
Arab on Radar,
Barry Ungar,
The New Christs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Excepter,
Steve Hackett,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Porter Ricks,
The United States of America,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Alton Ellis,
Peter and Kerry,
Crash Course in Science,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Sheep,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.