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 Korea South and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 June Days to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
DJ Style,
The Fortunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Simply Red,
Quadrant,
Johnny Clarke,
The Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Jerry's Kids,
John Foxx,
Malaria!,
Radiohead,
Man Parrish,
The Names,
Erasure,
The Motions,
Ponytail,
cv313,
the Soft Cell,
Sparks,
Suburban Knight,
Cameo,
Chris Corsano,
Tommy Roe,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Vogues,
Guru Guru,
Connie Case,
Black Flag,
Rufus Thomas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brass Construction,
The Black Dice,
Loose Ends,
Blake Baxter,
The Young Rascals,
The Misunderstood,
The Barracudas,
Todd Terry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Half Japanese,
Funkadelic,
Wolf Eyes,
Lucky Dragons,
Jimmy McGriff,
Second Layer,
Patti Smith,
Pierre Henry,
John Coltrane,
Eddi Front,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Swans,
The Index,
Moby Grape,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pantytec,
Minutemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.