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 Dominican Republic and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 sitar 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 Japan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Depeche Mode,
Harry Pussy,
Theoretical Girls,
Tres Demented,
Average White Band,
Lou Christie,
Bauhaus,
One Last Wish,
Pagans,
The Fall,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Electric Prunes,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Gang of Four,
Andrew Hill,
Black Sheep,
The Vogues,
Alphaville,
Boredoms,
Spandau Ballet,
Y Pants,
Lalann,
Wolf Eyes,
The Searchers,
Television,
The Zeros,
Soul Sonic Force,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Happenings,
The Dead C,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Skarface,
Fad Gadget,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fatback Band,
The Gories,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sällskapet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tommy Roe,
Neu!,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sandy B,
Clear Light,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Los Fastidios,
Laurel Aitken,
Donald Byrd,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slackers,
The Sound,
the Human League,
Tears for Fears,
Traffic Nightmare,
Surgeon,
Tom Boy,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick May,
Roxette,
Simply Red,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.