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 Armenia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord 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 Stockholm Monsters to the electroclash 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Alphaville,
Amazonics,
Robert Hood,
Nirvana,
Eddi Front,
Cybotron,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Moody Blues,
the Fania All-Stars,
Albert Ayler,
Ultra Naté,
The Detroit Cobras,
Electric Prunes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Steve Hackett,
Magma,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Index,
Michelle Simonal,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sandy B,
Tears for Fears,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Wyatt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
F. McDonald,
Buzzcocks,
World's Most,
The Techniques,
Gang Starr,
Bauhaus,
Stereo Dub,
The Sound,
Index,
Soft Cell,
T.S.O.L.,
Stetsasonic,
Marmalade,
Lucky Dragons,
China Crisis,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
Fat Boys,
Nico,
Nas,
Procol Harum,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Freddie Wadling,
Zero Boys,
The Dead C,
The Remains,
Kool Moe Dee,
Angry Samoans,
Dave Gahan,
Arthur Verocai,
Brick,
Organ,
Con Funk Shun,
Crime,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.