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 Lebanon and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Lydon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Black Pus,
Black Moon,
Lungfish,
The Count Five,
Schoolly D,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sixth Finger,
Connie Case,
the Normal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kenny Larkin,
Aloha Tigers,
Crime,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ossler,
Masters at Work,
Moss Icon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Standells,
KRS-One,
Suicide,
John Holt,
The Fall,
Aural Exciters,
Mark Hollis,
Delta 5,
Grandmaster Flash,
Derrick May,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Reed,
Vladislav Delay,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Black Dice,
Prince Buster,
The Names,
Babytalk,
Drexciya,
The Offenders,
Nico,
Juan Atkins,
Camouflage,
Half Japanese,
Michelle Simonal,
The Golliwogs,
Hardrive,
Scion,
T. Rex,
Howard Jones,
Tubeway Army,
DJ Style,
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
Lalann,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.