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 Romania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Terrestrial Tones to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now 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 jazz 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
Sonic Youth,
Talk Talk,
Colin Newman,
Skriet,
Blancmange,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chrome,
Kerri Chandler,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash,
Parry Music,
Zapp,
The Move,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hardrive,
The Kinks,
Soulsonic Force,
The Happenings,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rites of Spring,
48th St. Collective,
Tim Buckley,
The Names,
Glenn Branca,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeff Lynne,
Dennis Brown,
The Fall,
The Doors,
The American Breed,
Flash Fearless,
Ossler,
Japan,
X-Ray Spex,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül,
Silicon Teens,
Godley & Creme,
Dave Gahan,
Terry Callier,
Camouflage,
Dead Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The Mojo Men,
Rod Modell,
Deakin,
Alice Coltrane,
The Blackbyrds,
Ronnie Foster,
Malaria!,
John Cale,
The Residents,
The Count Five,
Suburban Knight,
the Human League,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.