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 Kyrgyzstan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
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 harpsichord 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rosa Yemen,
Nick Fraelich,
Electric Prunes,
John Coltrane,
Faust,
Joe Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
Rekid,
kango's stein massive,
The Techniques,
Babytalk,
Rites of Spring,
Bang On A Can,
Thee Headcoats,
Pulsallama,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Hood,
Bill Wells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dave Clark Five,
New York Dolls,
Scientists,
Gil Scott Heron,
Max Romeo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Symarip,
Scion,
Urselle,
Dennis Brown,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Clarke,
Wally Richardson,
Popol Vuh,
Guru Guru,
The Tremeloes,
Magma,
Ponytail,
10cc,
Dead Boys,
Unwound,
the Normal,
Essential Logic,
Funky Four + One,
Roxy Music,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harry Pussy,
Alton Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Negative Approach,
Boz Scaggs,
Godley & Creme,
Sister Nancy,
Wings,
The Fire Engines,
Iggy Pop,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Intrusion,
Skaos,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.