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 South Africa and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the dance 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Make Up,
Slave,
JFA,
Urselle,
Sugar Minott,
The Golliwogs,
Mr. Review,
Camouflage,
Black Bananas,
Groovy Waters,
Hasil Adkins,
Tommy Roe,
Hashim,
Robert Wyatt,
Dennis Brown,
David Bowie,
Pere Ubu,
Dual Sessions,
The Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
The American Breed,
New York Dolls,
The Cure,
June Days,
Suburban Knight,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lower 48,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Dolphy,
Minutemen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Moon,
Lakeside,
The Fuzztones,
Altered Images,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deepchord,
The Slits,
Harmonia,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Popol Vuh,
Fear,
The Techniques,
Metal Thangz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Byrd,
Gichy Dan,
The Invisible,
Kerri Chandler,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Litter,
The Busters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Green,
Iggy Pop,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Index,
Ludus,
kango's stein massive,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.