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 Guinea-Bissau and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eve St. Jones to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Suburban Knight,
Jawbox,
Bauhaus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Barracudas,
Surgeon,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Starr,
The Angels of Light,
Simply Red,
Joe Smooth,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mojo Men,
Rosa Yemen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
La Düsseldorf,
Oneida,
Crash Course in Science,
Ossler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Swell Maps,
Maleditus Sound,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Public Enemy,
Unwound,
David McCallum,
Animal Collective,
Fat Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Hood,
A Certain Ratio,
Mission of Burma,
The Residents,
The American Breed,
Sun Ra,
Little Man,
Hot Snakes,
The Tremeloes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Judy Mowatt,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Toasters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thee Headcoats,
Visage,
Warren Ellis,
Quadrant,
John Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
Quando Quango,
Goldenarms,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mad Mike,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Matthew Bourne,
The Evens,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.