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 North and from London.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ornette Coleman to the rock 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Tears for Fears,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Germs,
Bronski Beat,
The Modern Lovers,
Severed Heads,
Carl Craig,
Radio Birdman,
the Swans,
Gichy Dan,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Liliput,
Black Bananas,
Roxette,
Kool Moe Dee,
Drexciya,
Zapp,
Mars,
Andrew Hill,
Maleditus Sound,
Slick Rick,
Second Layer,
Vladislav Delay,
Josef K,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amazonics,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
Popol Vuh,
The Golliwogs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Duran Duran,
Hot Snakes,
Kerri Chandler,
Joey Negro,
Mr. Review,
Procol Harum,
Fugazi,
The Invisible,
Faraquet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harry Pussy,
Hasil Adkins,
X-101,
Pagans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
La Düsseldorf,
Sparks,
Minutemen,
Stiv Bators,
Ronnie Foster,
Eli Mardock,
The Cramps,
Unwound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arcadia,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Supertramp,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.