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 Guyana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the grunge 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
One Last Wish,
Henry Cow,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bush Tetras,
John Foxx,
Clear Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultravox,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Moon,
The Last Poets,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Real Kids,
Albert Ayler,
Hot Snakes,
Little Man,
Ronan,
Lalann,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Accadde A,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Circle Jerks,
The Dead C,
Ossler,
Eve St. Jones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Fela Kuti,
Supertramp,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marine Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Flash Fearless,
The Cowsills,
Duran Duran,
The Victims,
Fear,
Joensuu 1685,
Yazoo,
Inner City,
Kas Product,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Human League,
Funky Four + One,
The Divine Comedy,
Steve Hackett,
Negative Approach,
Neil Young,
the Swans,
The Toasters,
Joyce Sims,
Dual Sessions,
Unrelated Segments,
The Golliwogs,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.