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 Uzbekistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Remains to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The Smiths,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DNA,
Harmonia,
The Velvet Underground,
The Buckinghams,
Bill Near,
Eurythmics,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
The Young Rascals,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Holt,
Faraquet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Names,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mandrill,
Cal Tjader,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ten City,
Stiv Bators,
Black Bananas,
Rapeman,
Albert Ayler,
The Invisible,
Brick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masters at Work,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fall,
Crooked Eye,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Martian,
Depeche Mode,
The Zeros,
Fluxion,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television,
Darondo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alton Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
Sex Pistols,
Television Personalities,
Yellowson,
Gichy Dan,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Coltrane,
The Music Machine,
The Trojans,
Black Flag,
Tomorrow,
Eve St. Jones,
Amazonics,
Yaz,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.