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 Estonia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Aaron Thompson to the grunge 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
B.T. Express,
The Sound,
Country Teasers,
Camouflage,
Depeche Mode,
The Buckinghams,
Dave Gahan,
The Stooges,
Maurizio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sonic Youth,
Joe Finger,
Jeff Mills,
Neu!,
the Sonics,
Hot Snakes,
Ludus,
Bluetip,
The Toasters,
Todd Rundgren,
The Moleskins,
Juan Atkins,
Dead Boys,
Television Personalities,
Hashim,
John Foxx,
Nas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faust,
Popol Vuh,
Tomorrow,
Index,
Altered Images,
Morten Harket,
FM Einheit,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Doors,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young,
Lungfish,
Ultravox,
The Wake,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gories,
Scion,
Los Fastidios,
Spandau Ballet,
Scott Walker,
T.S.O.L.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Adolescents,
Bauhaus,
Peter & Gordon,
the Slits,
Trumans Water,
Rosa Yemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eden Ahbez,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABBA,
Echospace,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.