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 Hungary and from Toronto.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Chris Corsano to the rap 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
The Techniques,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
The Golliwogs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Television Personalities,
Hoover,
Country Teasers,
Loose Ends,
The Tremeloes,
The Dirtbombs,
Sonic Youth,
Nils Olav,
Rites of Spring,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chrome,
Ultravox,
Deepchord,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fugazi,
Sparks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grauzone,
The Buckinghams,
Fela Kuti,
The Last Poets,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aaron Thompson,
The Misunderstood,
The Pop Group,
the Germs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Smog,
X-Ray Spex,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bad Manners,
The Leaves,
Cheater Slicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Foxx,
June of 44,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The J.B.'s,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gong,
Jacques Brel,
The Happenings,
Judy Mowatt,
Rufus Thomas,
Eli Mardock,
The Gladiators,
Brass Construction,
Albert Ayler,
Rosa Yemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quando Quango,
the Swans,
Easy Going,
Black Pus,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.