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 Portugal and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 The Beau Brummels to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharoah Sanders,
Los Fastidios,
June Days,
Ludus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Section 25,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Pulsallama,
Eden Ahbez,
Animal Collective,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grandmaster Flash,
Quando Quango,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Reed,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Slave,
The Trojans,
the Swans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minnie Riperton,
Quantec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Beau Brummels,
Wire,
The Index,
Nick Fraelich,
Lyres,
Tubeway Army,
Bill Wells,
World's Most,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
Intrusion,
CMW,
Radio Birdman,
The Velvet Underground,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Depeche Mode,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wally Richardson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
Rites of Spring,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dual Sessions,
Marine Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The United States of America,
the Bar-Kays,
Parry Music,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.