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 Mexico 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin 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 Grandmaster Flash to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Animal Collective,
The Evens,
Yaz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fugs,
New York Dolls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Trumans Water,
Gang Green,
Reagan Youth,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tubeway Army,
Sun City Girls,
Joy Division,
Jeff Lynne,
Amon Düül II,
Pet Shop Boys,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Womack,
Lyres,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Blancmange,
Sound Behaviour,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Josef K,
Graham Central Station,
Toni Rubio,
Man Parrish,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fear,
OOIOO,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Near,
Visage,
Roxette,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Stooges,
Brothers Johnson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Last Poets,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Isaac Hayes,
Sparks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sandy B,
Susan Cadogan,
Judy Mowatt,
The Birthday Party,
Saccharine Trust,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.