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 Syria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the disco 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Invisible,
Brothers Johnson,
Heaven 17,
Camouflage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Victims,
Angry Samoans,
Cheater Slicks,
Index,
X-102,
Danielle Patucci,
Duran Duran,
Al Stewart,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Talk Talk,
The Beau Brummels,
Parry Music,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
Susan Cadogan,
Derrick May,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chris & Cosey,
Q65,
Marine Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Human League,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swell Maps,
the Slits,
Surgeon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Aloha Tigers,
Deakin,
The Litter,
Das Ding,
Excepter,
Amon Düül II,
Yusef Lateef,
Judy Mowatt,
Suicide,
Archie Shepp,
Isaac Hayes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Infiniti,
Motorama,
Sam Rivers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Skarface,
Skaos,
Soft Cell,
Thee Headcoats,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quadrant,
H. Thieme,
Lightning Bolt,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.