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 Mexico and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Evens,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fela Kuti,
Marcia Griffiths,
John Lydon,
Unwound,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed,
Eden Ahbez,
Sister Nancy,
Young Marble Giants,
Laurel Aitken,
The Detroit Cobras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
10cc,
Toni Rubio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cowsills,
Joy Division,
Talk Talk,
Angry Samoans,
The Angels of Light,
The Dead C,
Massinfluence,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soul II Soul,
Mantronix,
Wire,
Joe Finger,
The Invisible,
Aswad,
Scan 7,
Fear,
Japan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Make Up,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jerry's Kids,
Crime,
Eli Mardock,
Lower 48,
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
The Seeds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Depeche Mode,
The Blues Magoos,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Zeros,
ABC,
Bang On A Can,
Chris Corsano,
The Remains,
Zapp,
Kaleidoscope,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.