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 Kosovo 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Detroit Cobras 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Slave,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
Donny Hathaway,
Judy Mowatt,
These Immortal Souls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scan 7,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fat Boys,
June Days,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Section 25,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Shoche,
Neu!,
Drexciya,
Cluster,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Oneida,
The Black Dice,
The Barracudas,
The Skatalites,
Joensuu 1685,
Joyce Sims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Magma,
Pylon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fear,
The Victims,
Idris Muhammad,
PIL,
Glambeats Corp.,
Masters at Work,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eurythmics,
China Crisis,
Eli Mardock,
The Blues Magoos,
Deakin,
Robert Görl,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Starr,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Au Pairs,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
The Young Rascals,
Bad Manners,
MDC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wasted Youth,
Agitation Free,
Ken Boothe,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.