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 Macedonia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the crunk 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Josef K 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Drexciya,
Sam Rivers,
Spandau Ballet,
Glambeats Corp.,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Bananas,
Alison Limerick,
Maurizio,
Todd Rundgren,
The Leaves,
Lakeside,
Babytalk,
Procol Harum,
The Moody Blues,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skarface,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
The Cure,
Quantec,
The Young Rascals,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chris Corsano,
The Durutti Column,
Soft Cell,
Hasil Adkins,
Bill Near,
Maleditus Sound,
Reagan Youth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Cale,
Skaos,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Smog,
Camberwell Now,
Graham Central Station,
The Barracudas,
Soulsonic Force,
The Invisible,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Second Layer,
Rotary Connection,
Loose Ends,
Sex Pistols,
These Immortal Souls,
Lyres,
Infiniti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Royal Trux,
Darondo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Searchers,
a-ha,
Matthew Bourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.