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 India and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Chrome,
Susan Cadogan,
Deepchord,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Underground Resistance,
Arthur Verocai,
The Slackers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cure,
Bob Dylan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soft Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slits,
The Black Dice,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Infiniti,
Eurythmics,
Vladislav Delay,
Moebius,
UT,
Babytalk,
Rapeman,
Technova,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Wyatt,
Little Man,
the Normal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Darondo,
Hoover,
Maurizio,
Section 25,
Lalann,
Kerri Chandler,
Pantaleimon,
Tubeway Army,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magma,
the Human League,
X-Ray Spex,
Loose Ends,
Roxette,
Dawn Penn,
The Happenings,
The Sound,
Clear Light,
Wire,
Sexual Harrassment,
New Order,
Jacob Miller,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Clarke,
The Associates,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.