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 Greece and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Boredoms to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
The Black Dice,
Eve St. Jones,
Electric Prunes,
Oneida,
The Standells,
Circle Jerks,
The Invisible,
The Fall,
DNA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Raincoats,
Amon Düül II,
Porter Ricks,
The Cowsills,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
Cymande,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scrapy,
Sun City Girls,
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Josef K,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fortunes,
Johnny Clarke,
Drexciya,
Warren Ellis,
Sister Nancy,
Q65,
Soul Sonic Force,
Morten Harket,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Curtis Mayfield,
Trumans Water,
Yaz,
New York Dolls,
Todd Terry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Funkadelic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Angry Samoans,
Bauhaus,
Barrington Levy,
Bill Wells,
Pole,
LL Cool J,
U.S. Maple,
Theoretical Girls,
KRS-One,
A Certain Ratio,
Sixth Finger,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.