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 Malta and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crash Course in Science to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Martian,
Janne Schatter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Audionom,
Symarip,
D'Angelo,
Radio Birdman,
The Divine Comedy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eve St. Jones,
The Vogues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
The Techniques,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fela Kuti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rosa Yemen,
Urselle,
New York Dolls,
ABC,
Darondo,
Slave,
The Cure,
Soft Machine,
Black Sheep,
Magma,
Pylon,
Blossom Toes,
The Busters,
CMW,
Josef K,
Pet Shop Boys,
DJ Sneak,
Easy Going,
Negative Approach,
Isaac Hayes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mark Hollis,
The Toasters,
Shuggie Otis,
Surgeon,
Loose Ends,
Q and Not U,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glenn Branca,
The Doobie Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Prince Buster,
Wally Richardson,
Scott Walker,
the Normal,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Liliput,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.