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 Iceland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 LL Cool J to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
the Human League,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
F. McDonald,
Symarip,
Public Image Ltd.,
New York Dolls,
Todd Rundgren,
Interpol,
UT,
Vladislav Delay,
Mantronix,
Black Pus,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Happenings,
Leonard Cohen,
The Blues Magoos,
Altered Images,
The Mojo Men,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Audionom,
Matthew Bourne,
Pere Ubu,
Godley & Creme,
MDC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Black Dice,
These Immortal Souls,
Agitation Free,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Selecter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Searchers,
AZ,
Malaria!,
Bang On A Can,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fortunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blackbyrds,
Erasure,
PIL,
U.S. Maple,
X-Ray Spex,
Quando Quango,
James White and The Blacks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skarface,
Pagans,
Fugazi,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ponytail,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Womack,
The Detroit Cobras,
48th St. Collective,
Nirvana,
Dennis Brown,
Visage,
The Moleskins,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.