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 Georgia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hot Snakes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Mary Jane Girls,
Man Parrish,
Todd Terry,
Neil Young,
Black Flag,
Blossom Toes,
Oblivians,
Nils Olav,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Con Funk Shun,
Eurythmics,
Blake Baxter,
Sun City Girls,
The Selecter,
Rosa Yemen,
The Star Department,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Görl,
Niagra,
Monolake,
The Evens,
The Remains,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Byrd,
Magma,
Porter Ricks,
the Association,
The Trojans,
The Angels of Light,
Roger Hodgson,
Smog,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Thompson Twins,
Jerry's Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Grey Daturas,
Barrington Levy,
The Kinks,
Tres Demented,
Letta Mbulu,
Altered Images,
The Dirtbombs,
JFA,
Accadde A,
Soul II Soul,
Aaron Thompson,
Japan,
Section 25,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Blues Magoos,
Minutemen,
Technova,
The Misunderstood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ornette Coleman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.