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 Laos and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Mad Mike,
Pagans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Y Pants,
Zapp,
Fat Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
Angry Samoans,
Yusef Lateef,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Avey Tare,
a-ha,
The Moleskins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Talk Talk,
Anakelly,
David McCallum,
T. Rex,
Skaos,
Darondo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harmonia,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric Dolphy,
The Motions,
Rapeman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Association,
Jimmy McGriff,
June Days,
Massinfluence,
A Certain Ratio,
Deadbeat,
Parry Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Con Funk Shun,
Skriet,
Masters at Work,
Make Up,
John Coltrane,
Kayak,
Moebius,
Howard Jones,
Aloha Tigers,
Scratch Acid,
Agitation Free,
Tom Boy,
Davy DMX,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rod Modell,
Grauzone,
Funkadelic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
Unwound,
Scientists,
The Zeros,
Flash Fearless,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.