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 Cyprus and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tears for Fears to the dance 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Coltrane,
Nils Olav,
Bush Tetras,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wasted Youth,
Half Japanese,
Sun City Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
LL Cool J,
Jawbox,
Grauzone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronan,
Andrew Hill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Modern Lovers,
John Lydon,
Robert Görl,
The Fugs,
Agitation Free,
Gang Starr,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry's Kids,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
Lyres,
The Mummies,
Bob Dylan,
Erasure,
Roy Ayers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barry Ungar,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eli Mardock,
Kerri Chandler,
Flash Fearless,
The Neon Judgement,
Arcadia,
The Moleskins,
Man Parrish,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
the Sonics,
Sound Behaviour,
Bang On A Can,
Shuggie Otis,
Hardrive,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Sheep,
Morten Harket,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Selecter,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dark Day,
The Walker Brothers,
Todd Rundgren,
Gichy Dan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.