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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 Warsaw to the grunge 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Qualms,
Rakim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultravox,
Nils Olav,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Make Up,
Lightning Bolt,
Organ,
Kurtis Blow,
The J.B.'s,
Jeff Lynne,
the Bar-Kays,
Cal Tjader,
The Sound,
The Invisible,
Harmonia,
ABC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fuzztones,
Little Man,
Infiniti,
John Lydon,
Unrelated Segments,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Darondo,
The Gladiators,
The Kinks,
the Slits,
Stiv Bators,
Second Layer,
Rekid,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Seeds,
This Heat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Zapp,
Sandy B,
The Doors,
Kas Product,
Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Angry Samoans,
Inner City,
Flipper,
Tomorrow,
8 Eyed Spy,
Banda Bassotti,
Todd Terry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ornette Coleman,
Grey Daturas,
Soulsonic Force,
Dead Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gabor Szabo,
The Techniques,
Moss Icon,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.