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 Denmark and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Coltrane to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Guru Guru,
The Modern Lovers,
Talk Talk,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tommy Roe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Whodini,
Terry Callier,
Skarface,
The Moleskins,
The Saints,
Underground Resistance,
New Order,
Amon Düül II,
Judy Mowatt,
48th St. Collective,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shoche,
The Real Kids,
Make Up,
Goldenarms,
Eden Ahbez,
The Leaves,
The Blues Magoos,
Tres Demented,
The Human League,
Minutemen,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronan,
Royal Trux,
The Smoke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sight & Sound,
cv313,
Alice Coltrane,
Con Funk Shun,
Y Pants,
Bauhaus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Blancmange,
Pole,
Suburban Knight,
MC5,
Marmalade,
Joe Finger,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Five Americans,
The Music Machine,
Barry Ungar,
The Star Department,
The Knickerbockers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alphaville,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Buckinghams,
Roxy Music,
The Toasters,
The Grass Roots,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.