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 Ukraine and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Minutemen to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Joyce Sims,
CMW,
H. Thieme,
The Flesh Eaters,
Junior Murvin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Aloha Tigers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arcadia,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Simply Red,
Janne Schatter,
Slave,
ABBA,
The Real Kids,
The Names,
Lalo Schifrin,
Outsiders,
Ultra Naté,
The Buckinghams,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Don Cherry,
The Leaves,
Saccharine Trust,
Accadde A,
Bad Manners,
Carl Craig,
Vladislav Delay,
the Slits,
The United States of America,
Talk Talk,
Moebius,
Jawbox,
Warsaw,
Los Fastidios,
Throbbing Gristle,
Swell Maps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Howard Jones,
Popol Vuh,
The Human League,
L. Decosne,
Leonard Cohen,
Johnny Clarke,
Minnie Riperton,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Slits,
The Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Matthew Bourne,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.