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 Turkmenistan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 David Bowie 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 Gladiators to the electroclash 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Hoover,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brick,
Frankie Knuckles,
Todd Rundgren,
Mission of Burma,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Star Department,
Joey Negro,
The Index,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Divine Comedy,
Whodini,
Eli Mardock,
Derrick Morgan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Slackers,
New Age Steppers,
Easy Going,
Cameo,
Robert Hood,
The Searchers,
Masters at Work,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Don Cherry,
The New Christs,
Tears for Fears,
Pulsallama,
The Tremeloes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scientists,
Flash Fearless,
Maleditus Sound,
The Count Five,
Henry Cow,
The Doors,
Aswad,
Mars,
Faust,
Juan Atkins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camberwell Now,
The Happenings,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Sound Behaviour,
Organ,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
U.S. Maple,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Erykah Badu,
Lungfish,
Nick Fraelich,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.