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 Cape Verde and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Walker Brothers 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
T. Rex,
Henry Cow,
New Age Steppers,
Easy Going,
The Gun Club,
Nick Fraelich,
the Sonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Beau Brummels,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Smoke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Niagra,
John Lydon,
Pylon,
Ludus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Susan Cadogan,
Radio Birdman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monks,
Vainqueur,
The Shadows of Knight,
One Last Wish,
Can,
Scrapy,
The Cramps,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eric Dolphy,
Loose Ends,
Clear Light,
Massinfluence,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dead Boys,
Althea and Donna,
Wings,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Howard Jones,
The Standells,
The Cowsills,
The Walker Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Neil Young,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Saccharine Trust,
Joe Finger,
Roxette,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moebius,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dark Day,
Ten City,
The Martian,
Icehouse,
Thompson Twins,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.