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 Iraq and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Lou Reed 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 Subhumans to the dance 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Zero Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
June of 44,
Depeche Mode,
Minor Threat,
Prince Buster,
Carl Craig,
The Buckinghams,
The Velvet Underground,
Gichy Dan,
Aloha Tigers,
Freddie Wadling,
Joe Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Swell Maps,
Monks,
Ronnie Foster,
Maleditus Sound,
Index,
Brothers Johnson,
Nik Kershaw,
Animal Collective,
Grauzone,
KRS-One,
Television,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tres Demented,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Magazine,
The Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Altered Images,
Roy Ayers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
B.T. Express,
Marvin Gaye,
Roger Hodgson,
New York Dolls,
Warsaw,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alton Ellis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Second Layer,
Soft Machine,
Goldenarms,
Amazonics,
The Searchers,
Sex Pistols,
Sun City Girls,
Camouflage,
Kenny Larkin,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Hill,
Patti Smith,
Fear,
The Index,
U.S. Maple,
Michelle Simonal,
Nirvana,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.