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 Bangladesh and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gang Gang Dance to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Desert Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yaz,
The Mummies,
Josef K,
Shuggie Otis,
Kevin Saunderson,
The United States of America,
Parry Music,
Rapeman,
Joyce Sims,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Surgeon,
Camouflage,
Vainqueur,
CMW,
a-ha,
Don Cherry,
Eli Mardock,
Flash Fearless,
Eurythmics,
Section 25,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Sheep,
Icehouse,
DJ Sneak,
the Germs,
Panda Bear,
Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
The Smiths,
Cal Tjader,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fire Engines,
Bush Tetras,
The Blues Magoos,
Q65,
Lightning Bolt,
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cymande,
The Buckinghams,
Mr. Review,
Minnie Riperton,
E-Dancer,
Eric Copeland,
Franke,
Black Moon,
Marmalade,
JFA,
Babytalk,
Matthew Bourne,
ABBA,
Trumans Water,
Depeche Mode,
Guru Guru,
Barrington Levy,
New Order,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Star Department,
Faraquet,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.