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 Rwanda and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Althea and Donna to the grime 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Jacob Miller,
Skarface,
Ponytail,
Carl Craig,
The Gun Club,
Easy Going,
Grey Daturas,
Lalann,
Cymande,
Warsaw,
Hoover,
Sight & Sound,
The Raincoats,
Cybotron,
Connie Case,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bill Near,
MC5,
Blancmange,
FM Einheit,
Aswad,
Basic Channel,
Mantronix,
Minutemen,
Mo-Dettes,
Talk Talk,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Real Kids,
Kenny Larkin,
The Index,
Swans,
D'Angelo,
The Skatalites,
John Coltrane,
Mad Mike,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ossler,
Infiniti,
The Golliwogs,
Neu!,
The Toasters,
The Black Dice,
June Days,
The Dirtbombs,
The Litter,
The Wake,
Dark Day,
Ludus,
The Fuzztones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sugar Minott,
Boz Scaggs,
Judy Mowatt,
Sällskapet,
Kerri Chandler,
Nas,
Deakin,
Spandau Ballet,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.