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 Equatorial Guinea and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 Alphaville to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Guru Guru,
PIL,
U.S. Maple,
Oneida,
Monks,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Detroit Cobras,
Funky Four + One,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stiv Bators,
The Move,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minor Threat,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scratch Acid,
Oblivians,
Roger Hodgson,
Andrew Hill,
Kaleidoscope,
Hardrive,
Cybotron,
Clear Light,
The Offenders,
Moby Grape,
Rufus Thomas,
The Barracudas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Knickerbockers,
Suburban Knight,
The Slackers,
E-Dancer,
Graham Central Station,
Tears for Fears,
Ultravox,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ronan,
The Real Kids,
The Star Department,
Letta Mbulu,
The Pop Group,
Tres Demented,
Lalann,
The Associates,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jandek,
Hasil Adkins,
Fluxion,
Darondo,
the Germs,
Motorama,
The Saints,
Prince Buster,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Warsaw,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.