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 Kyrgyzstan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bizarre Inc. to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Lightning Bolt,
Wire,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Human League,
Section 25,
D'Angelo,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Offenders,
Aswad,
These Immortal Souls,
PIL,
Lou Reed,
Warren Ellis,
10cc,
Graham Central Station,
Fad Gadget,
Underground Resistance,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Kinks,
Bang On A Can,
Au Pairs,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Velvet Underground,
Zero Boys,
The Motions,
Kerri Chandler,
Joe Finger,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rakim,
Marshall Jefferson,
This Heat,
The Happenings,
Agent Orange,
The Blackbyrds,
Jeff Mills,
Animal Collective,
Deepchord,
Siglo XX,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dead C,
Scientists,
Easy Going,
Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Faust,
Rapeman,
Roger Hodgson,
LL Cool J,
Whodini,
Nik Kershaw,
Junior Murvin,
Royal Trux,
Chrome,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Todd Rundgren,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Style,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skriet,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.