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 Armenia and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
X-101,
Jacob Miller,
The Stooges,
Joensuu 1685,
Second Layer,
Pierre Henry,
Deepchord,
K-Klass,
Pole,
Rod Modell,
John Lydon,
Robert Hood,
The Toasters,
Nik Kershaw,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
La Düsseldorf,
Lucky Dragons,
Joey Negro,
Model 500,
The Techniques,
Mr. Review,
Monolake,
Oneida,
The Associates,
Icehouse,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Last Poets,
The Seeds,
Oblivians,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Barracudas,
Babytalk,
The Mummies,
The Moleskins,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Victims,
June Days,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
EPMD,
The Young Rascals,
John Foxx,
The Walker Brothers,
Mars,
The Cure,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Green,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neu!,
The Buckinghams,
Japan,
Popol Vuh,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
UT,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wire,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.