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 Mexico and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the disco 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
The Toasters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eddi Front,
Television Personalities,
The Associates,
The Seeds,
Mad Mike,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Mummies,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gichy Dan,
Royal Trux,
Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bronski Beat,
Erasure,
Neil Young,
Lou Reed,
Tommy Roe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
Freddie Wadling,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pagans,
Carl Craig,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sixth Finger,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cluster,
PIL,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Al Stewart,
the Soft Cell,
Y Pants,
Nas,
The Invisible,
Black Moon,
Siglo XX,
Lungfish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agitation Free,
June of 44,
Newcleus,
The Dirtbombs,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Halsall,
Stockholm Monsters,
Prince Buster,
Skriet,
Joe Smooth,
Hardrive,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.