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 Burundi and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ralphi Rosario to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Deepchord,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rekid,
Joe Finger,
Rites of Spring,
Ice-T,
Excepter,
The Misunderstood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rod Modell,
Byron Stingily,
Black Moon,
E-Dancer,
Television Personalities,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lightning Bolt,
X-Ray Spex,
Altered Images,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Walker Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Jawbox,
Sällskapet,
Fat Boys,
Chrome,
Index,
The Trojans,
Mandrill,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Organ,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Monochrome Set,
The Buckinghams,
Public Enemy,
Nas,
Oblivians,
The Kinks,
Trumans Water,
The New Christs,
Pantytec,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Sheep,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wolf Eyes,
Erykah Badu,
Sam Rivers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
Marcia Griffiths,
June Days,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Vogues,
Tears for Fears,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeff Lynne,
Blancmange,
Gerry Rafferty,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.