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 Netherlands and from New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bluetip to the rock 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls 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?
Eurythmics,
Roxy Music,
Letta Mbulu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Durutti Column,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Clear Light,
Excepter,
Isaac Hayes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Howard Jones,
Symarip,
Mad Mike,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Max Romeo,
Kaleidoscope,
Con Funk Shun,
Depeche Mode,
Stetsasonic,
DNA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang of Four,
Scion,
Arthur Verocai,
The Names,
Monolake,
The Red Krayola,
Scientists,
The Cramps,
Lightning Bolt,
Skaos,
Theoretical Girls,
PIL,
Eric Dolphy,
Scan 7,
Cameo,
Soulsonic Force,
The Buckinghams,
The Techniques,
Warsaw,
The Trojans,
CMW,
The Fall,
Skriet,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
Make Up,
The Gories,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Barracudas,
Interpol,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
The Last Poets,
Q and Not U,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.