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 Marshall Islands and from Delhi.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Litter to the punk 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Rufus Thomas,
Los Fastidios,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pantaleimon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Raincoats,
The Standells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Beau Brummels,
Patti Smith,
The Victims,
Swans,
PIL,
Godley & Creme,
Guru Guru,
cv313,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minnie Riperton,
Faust,
Jeff Lynne,
Letta Mbulu,
The United States of America,
The Mojo Men,
Ultravox,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dead C,
Lindisfarne,
Excepter,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Busters,
The Gun Club,
Isaac Hayes,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Stooges,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brick,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Youth Brigade,
Depeche Mode,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Terry,
Scott Walker,
Heaven 17,
The Divine Comedy,
Delta 5,
D'Angelo,
Masters at Work,
Rosa Yemen,
Bad Manners,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mantronix,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Outsiders,
Gong,
The Searchers,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.