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 Malawi and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Tubeway Army to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Babytalk,
Black Bananas,
John Foxx,
Joyce Sims,
Bill Near,
Rekid,
T. Rex,
Crooked Eye,
The Birthday Party,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Iggy Pop,
Quantec,
Amon Düül,
the Slits,
The Last Poets,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shuggie Otis,
Aural Exciters,
Public Image Ltd.,
ABBA,
FM Einheit,
Moby Grape,
Eden Ahbez,
Altered Images,
Circle Jerks,
Fear,
Arthur Verocai,
Pussy Galore,
Tears for Fears,
The Pretty Things,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lee Hazlewood,
Faraquet,
Second Layer,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
These Immortal Souls,
Ohio Players,
Easy Going,
Smog,
Big Daddy Kane,
Peter and Kerry,
The Golliwogs,
Ituana,
Tres Demented,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Modern Lovers,
Joensuu 1685,
Quadrant,
The Vogues,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cluster,
Echospace,
Kaleidoscope,
cv313,
Boredoms,
Dead Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
Max Romeo,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.