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 Togo and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Jandek,
Lakeside,
Dark Day,
Leonard Cohen,
The Moleskins,
Mo-Dettes,
T.S.O.L.,
Hoover,
Jerry's Kids,
CMW,
the Swans,
The Barracudas,
Junior Murvin,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Litter,
Pylon,
The Gun Club,
Wings,
The Young Rascals,
Eurythmics,
Dave Gahan,
Kurtis Blow,
DJ Sneak,
The Detroit Cobras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
Juan Atkins,
Moebius,
MC5,
Brass Construction,
X-101,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cameo,
Jeff Lynne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barry Ungar,
X-102,
Boredoms,
Minnie Riperton,
Joensuu 1685,
The Tremeloes,
Sight & Sound,
Marc Almond,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sixth Finger,
Underground Resistance,
Idris Muhammad,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roger Hodgson,
Hardrive,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pussy Galore,
Black Bananas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Parrish,
F. McDonald,
Swell Maps,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.