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 Swaziland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marc Almond to the jazz 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
The Skatalites,
Tubeway Army,
Symarip,
Eric B and Rakim,
Max Romeo,
Mandrill,
Average White Band,
Aswad,
Black Moon,
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Joyce Sims,
Ohio Players,
Hot Snakes,
Glenn Branca,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Magma,
Kayak,
Nils Olav,
The Misunderstood,
Ultravox,
Livin' Joy,
The Walker Brothers,
Donny Hathaway,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Massinfluence,
Ronnie Foster,
David Bowie,
Young Marble Giants,
Groovy Waters,
Spandau Ballet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Vogues,
Gichy Dan,
Yaz,
Heaven 17,
Surgeon,
Hardrive,
The Toasters,
Tim Buckley,
Reuben Wilson,
Soft Cell,
Bauhaus,
Iggy Pop,
Johnny Clarke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
The Count Five,
Joe Smooth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pole,
Simply Red,
Susan Cadogan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mark Hollis,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.