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 Panama and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Tom Verlaine 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Wasted Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
MC5,
D'Angelo,
Al Stewart,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
The Trojans,
Qualms,
Byron Stingily,
Traffic Nightmare,
Motorama,
In Retrospect,
Ludus,
Mark Hollis,
Graham Central Station,
Colin Newman,
The Real Kids,
Mo-Dettes,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare,
Tomorrow,
The Moleskins,
Organ,
The Cure,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pantaleimon,
Franke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
R.M.O.,
Brothers Johnson,
Boredoms,
Dawn Penn,
Eve St. Jones,
Crash Course in Science,
Henry Cow,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aswad,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
The Gap Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
CMW,
Adolescents,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maleditus Sound,
Ohio Players,
Soft Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Hot Snakes,
Nirvana,
The Pretty Things,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cluster,
The Buckinghams,
Eden Ahbez,
The Electric Prunes,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.