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 Suriname and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
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 guitar 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 Laurel Aitken to the dance 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
the Slits,
Faraquet,
Underground Resistance,
Eric B and Rakim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
World's Most,
Main Source,
The Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dead Boys,
Henry Cow,
Pussy Galore,
Lindisfarne,
Bill Wells,
Icehouse,
Charles Mingus,
The Grass Roots,
Young Marble Giants,
LL Cool J,
Stiv Bators,
Kevin Saunderson,
Angry Samoans,
Con Funk Shun,
Pagans,
Max Romeo,
Mandrill,
Leonard Cohen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minutemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ohio Players,
Lalann,
Bang On A Can,
Royal Trux,
Bauhaus,
Smog,
The Neon Judgement,
The Toasters,
Ultra Naté,
Barclay James Harvest,
Malaria!,
Josef K,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wings,
The Angels of Light,
Davy DMX,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monochrome Set,
Interpol,
Black Flag,
the Germs,
10cc,
Ice-T,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delta 5,
Moss Icon,
Black Bananas,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.