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 Nigeria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crash Course in Science to the grunge 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Lou Christie,
Unwound,
Can,
Inner City,
Icehouse,
Skaos,
Todd Rundgren,
Soft Cell,
Angry Samoans,
UT,
Eve St. Jones,
Brick,
Pantaleimon,
Crime,
Mary Jane Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Grauzone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
EPMD,
The Fortunes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vladislav Delay,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stereo Dub,
Arcadia,
Index,
Leonard Cohen,
Rufus Thomas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
U.S. Maple,
Patti Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Yellowson,
Babytalk,
The Monochrome Set,
Fugazi,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
Ituana,
Rapeman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gregory Isaacs,
Faust,
The Real Kids,
the Germs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Sherman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Human League,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Smooth,
Pulsallama,
Howard Jones,
Franke,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.