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 Spain and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Doors to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris Corsano,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roxy Music,
Goldenarms,
Rekid,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Womack,
David McCallum,
Dark Day,
Jandek,
The Associates,
the Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
Boz Scaggs,
Franke,
Kaleidoscope,
China Crisis,
Fluxion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
Donny Hathaway,
The Slackers,
Buzzcocks,
The Litter,
Newcleus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sound Behaviour,
Television,
The Birthday Party,
Alton Ellis,
Soulsonic Force,
Severed Heads,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ten City,
Gong,
Drexciya,
Interpol,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Rundgren,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Spandau Ballet,
The Remains,
Los Fastidios,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mandrill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Harry Pussy,
Rosa Yemen,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thee Headcoats,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Main Source,
Moebius,
Sex Pistols,
The Blackbyrds,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.