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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Suicide to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Motions,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
Laurel Aitken,
Lightning Bolt,
Barrington Levy,
X-102,
Cybotron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
ABC,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonic Youth,
Tommy Roe,
Ten City,
Alton Ellis,
F. McDonald,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pantytec,
Mars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
B.T. Express,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Danielle Patucci,
Altered Images,
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Görl,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roxy Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flamin' Groovies,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Johnny Clarke,
Rekid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
CMW,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blues Magoos,
Roger Hodgson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick May,
Toni Rubio,
The Seeds,
Pierre Henry,
the Germs,
Lindisfarne,
Bill Wells,
The Walker Brothers,
Wings,
Can,
Swans,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Bourne,
Amazonics,
Drexciya,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.