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 Haiti and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
T. Rex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Shoche,
Anakelly,
Goldenarms,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fuzztones,
Basic Channel,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lower 48,
Whodini,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Model 500,
Scion,
Faraquet,
Excepter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Andrew Hill,
B.T. Express,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moss Icon,
Angry Samoans,
The Angels of Light,
Von Mondo,
Chrome,
Wasted Youth,
The Names,
Oneida,
Graham Central Station,
Saccharine Trust,
Minutemen,
The Buckinghams,
Parry Music,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Moody Blues,
Visage,
Dave Gahan,
Second Layer,
Sexual Harrassment,
a-ha,
Altered Images,
Rufus Thomas,
Donald Byrd,
cv313,
Babytalk,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Animal Collective,
Alton Ellis,
Brick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ice-T,
Crime,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Trojans,
Severed Heads,
Mo-Dettes,
Pantytec,
The Toasters,
The Kinks,
Morten Harket,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.