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 Honduras and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rhythm & Sound to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Pere Ubu,
Brand Nubian,
Quando Quango,
Newcleus,
Duran Duran,
Aloha Tigers,
Jacques Brel,
Ultimate Spinach,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cymande,
Boredoms,
New Age Steppers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Althea and Donna,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Freddie Wadling,
The Trojans,
Jacob Miller,
X-101,
Accadde A,
R.M.O.,
48th St. Collective,
Crooked Eye,
Con Funk Shun,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Television Personalities,
Eric B and Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Second Layer,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Gladiators,
FM Einheit,
Bush Tetras,
Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Swans,
E-Dancer,
the Normal,
Rakim,
Parry Music,
The Leaves,
New Order,
Trumans Water,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crash Course in Science,
OOIOO,
Malaria!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quantec,
Avey Tare,
Index,
The Human League,
Royal Trux,
Clear Light,
The Five Americans,
These Immortal Souls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.