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 Fiji and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Ultravox to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tres Demented,
Albert Ayler,
Goldenarms,
The Evens,
Eden Ahbez,
The Martian,
Nick Fraelich,
Mad Mike,
Ten City,
Amon Düül II,
MC5,
Robert Hood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agent Orange,
The Wake,
the Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
Tears for Fears,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
the Slits,
48th St. Collective,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grey Daturas,
Leonard Cohen,
Brass Construction,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Near,
The Index,
Soft Cell,
Lou Reed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Outsiders,
Darondo,
Black Pus,
John Lydon,
Johnny Clarke,
Little Man,
Minny Pops,
Lungfish,
Pere Ubu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barbara Tucker,
L. Decosne,
The Black Dice,
The Searchers,
La Düsseldorf,
Soul II Soul,
New Age Steppers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dark Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Misunderstood,
Sparks,
Kayak,
Scan 7,
The Toasters,
Robert Görl,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.