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 Tuvalu and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Roxette to the techno 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Harry Pussy,
Negative Approach,
Faraquet,
Essential Logic,
U.S. Maple,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minny Pops,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
New Order,
Fear,
John Lydon,
Black Moon,
Michelle Simonal,
Japan,
The Saints,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sexual Harrassment,
R.M.O.,
the Normal,
Steve Hackett,
Livin' Joy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marshall Jefferson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cymande,
48th St. Collective,
Barbara Tucker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Axelrod,
Johnny Clarke,
Infiniti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Residents,
Nas,
Leonard Cohen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Newcleus,
Fad Gadget,
The Red Krayola,
June of 44,
Max Romeo,
Dual Sessions,
Blake Baxter,
H. Thieme,
Alphaville,
The Last Poets,
World's Most,
Moebius,
The Buckinghams,
Outsiders,
The Seeds,
Trumans Water,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scrapy,
Reagan Youth,
The Move,
Agitation Free,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.