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 Maldives and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sugar Minott to the grunge 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
Icehouse,
R.M.O.,
Danielle Patucci,
Interpol,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Halsall,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mummies,
CMW,
Godley & Creme,
The Cowsills,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare,
Althea and Donna,
Pussy Galore,
The Sound,
Unwound,
Anakelly,
Leonard Cohen,
Magma,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Barracudas,
Siglo XX,
Dawn Penn,
Slick Rick,
Nirvana,
Brick,
Al Stewart,
Ituana,
Flash Fearless,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Surgeon,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young,
The Blackbyrds,
The Leaves,
Yazoo,
The Evens,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mandrill,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Wake,
Jerry's Kids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joy Division,
The Invisible,
the Germs,
Neu!,
Todd Rundgren,
Schoolly D,
Scion,
June of 44,
Echospace,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.