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 Ecuador and from Shanghai.
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 Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Unwound to the dance 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Alarm Clocks,
Howard Jones,
Lyres,
Hardrive,
Kaleidoscope,
Model 500,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dark Day,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Holt,
New Age Steppers,
Juan Atkins,
The Dirtbombs,
The Slackers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blake Baxter,
Section 25,
Graham Central Station,
Cluster,
B.T. Express,
Ludus,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Germs,
Shuggie Otis,
Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Detroit Cobras,
China Crisis,
The Residents,
Jeff Lynne,
Faust,
Jeff Mills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The United States of America,
The Fortunes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sam Rivers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Blancmange,
Lucky Dragons,
These Immortal Souls,
Mr. Review,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Darondo,
The Buckinghams,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
Porter Ricks,
La Düsseldorf,
Junior Murvin,
K-Klass,
The Tremeloes,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Reed,
Japan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kas Product,
Tropical Tobacco,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gories,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.