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 Netherlands and from Manchester.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Liliput to the punk 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Agitation Free,
Spandau Ballet,
Jerry's Kids,
Thompson Twins,
Nik Kershaw,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Theoretical Girls,
Roxy Music,
The Fire Engines,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Sherman,
Half Japanese,
Carl Craig,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
Deakin,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Black Dice,
Lucky Dragons,
Dead Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Stetsasonic,
Soft Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Todd Rundgren,
The New Christs,
The Grass Roots,
Bluetip,
Derrick May,
Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
Brand Nubian,
Bauhaus,
Spoonie Gee,
U.S. Maple,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Foxx,
H. Thieme,
Sandy B,
Don Cherry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalann,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.