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 Canada and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Frankie Knuckles to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Cale,
The Gladiators,
Arthur Verocai,
World's Most,
Barbara Tucker,
Slave,
Deadbeat,
Thee Headcoats,
Wolf Eyes,
Second Layer,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wally Richardson,
Yaz,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gun Club,
Nick Fraelich,
The Move,
Roxette,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sight & Sound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The J.B.'s,
Bush Tetras,
Nico,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker,
Pierre Henry,
AZ,
ABC,
Joey Negro,
Soulsonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
Tres Demented,
Pantaleimon,
The Skatalites,
Donald Byrd,
Monolake,
Glenn Branca,
Skaos,
The Busters,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
MDC,
Jerry's Kids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rosa Yemen,
Pussy Galore,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Anakelly,
Lalann,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Morten Harket,
Camouflage,
Bauhaus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.