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 Senegal and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Godley & Creme to the punk 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Ultravox,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Starr,
the Bar-Kays,
Marvin Gaye,
Soul II Soul,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fluxion,
Black Pus,
Neu!,
The Smiths,
The Sonics,
Pole,
Ituana,
The Divine Comedy,
Soft Machine,
MDC,
Bill Wells,
Alphaville,
Pagans,
Absolute Body Control,
Kaleidoscope,
Loose Ends,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock,
Minor Threat,
Fad Gadget,
Ohio Players,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mandrill,
Scott Walker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Heaven 17,
The Wake,
Darondo,
Barrington Levy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Khruangbin,
Carl Craig,
Jerry's Kids,
Royal Trux,
The Cure,
Aloha Tigers,
Das Ding,
The Durutti Column,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nirvana,
Main Source,
Los Fastidios,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hoover,
Robert Görl,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.