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 Angola 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 the Swans to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Lungfish,
Pantaleimon,
X-Ray Spex,
Sugar Minott,
The Seeds,
Bad Manners,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare,
Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Parry Music,
Boz Scaggs,
The Wake,
Quadrant,
Magazine,
OOIOO,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Supertramp,
48th St. Collective,
Eurythmics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Agent Orange,
Y Pants,
Easy Going,
In Retrospect,
Duran Duran,
Model 500,
Das Ding,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Vogues,
Joy Division,
Bronski Beat,
Rapeman,
Crime,
Ultra Naté,
Prince Buster,
Nas,
R.M.O.,
Jandek,
Neu!,
Nirvana,
Bang On A Can,
Tom Boy,
Pussy Galore,
The Tremeloes,
Zapp,
AZ,
Roy Ayers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy Collins,
Flash Fearless,
Sällskapet,
Mr. Review,
the Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.