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 Georgia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bronski Beat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
48th St. Collective,
Mary Jane Girls,
D'Angelo,
The Moleskins,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Outsiders,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aural Exciters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Human League,
Blancmange,
Rotary Connection,
Fela Kuti,
The Misunderstood,
the Bar-Kays,
The J.B.'s,
kango's stein massive,
Wings,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Depeche Mode,
Essential Logic,
Kenny Larkin,
Idris Muhammad,
The Durutti Column,
Quantec,
Sister Nancy,
Scan 7,
Public Image Ltd.,
Aaron Thompson,
Youth Brigade,
In Retrospect,
Kayak,
Nirvana,
Harmonia,
Lucky Dragons,
Peter and Kerry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arab on Radar,
Procol Harum,
The Fall,
The Mummies,
Kerri Chandler,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Certain Ratio,
The Velvet Underground,
Adolescents,
Pagans,
The Last Poets,
Echospace,
The Martian,
Ohio Players,
The Star Department,
Accadde A,
Talk Talk,
Stiv Bators,
Monks,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.