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 Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Modern Lovers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Al Stewart,
Lakeside,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Index,
The Fall,
Jawbox,
Qualms,
The Trojans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Young Rascals,
Dead Boys,
Intrusion,
Black Bananas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Birthday Party,
Max Romeo,
X-Ray Spex,
Judy Mowatt,
Mandrill,
Eric Copeland,
E-Dancer,
Half Japanese,
Camouflage,
FM Einheit,
The Gories,
Skaos,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tomorrow,
The Fuzztones,
The Monochrome Set,
The Flesh Eaters,
Derrick Morgan,
The Five Americans,
Yazoo,
The Music Machine,
the Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Infiniti,
Eric B and Rakim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marine Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Prince Buster,
The Buckinghams,
Neil Young,
Desert Stars,
Ponytail,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Divine Comedy,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Mills,
Erasure,
Roxy Music,
Warsaw,
Althea and Donna,
the Human League,
Deakin,
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.