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 Luxembourg and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kerri Chandler to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
48th St. Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marmalade,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
X-Ray Spex,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skaos,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Shoche,
Roxette,
Sun City Girls,
Ten City,
The Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Swans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crime,
The Dead C,
Faust,
Liliput,
Gong,
Chris Corsano,
Minutemen,
Spoonie Gee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rosa Yemen,
Eden Ahbez,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Guru Guru,
The Neon Judgement,
UT,
Sam Rivers,
Basic Channel,
The Smoke,
The Moleskins,
The Dirtbombs,
The Associates,
Trumans Water,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Starr,
The Leaves,
Technova,
Sixth Finger,
Anakelly,
Marvin Gaye,
Desert Stars,
The Fugs,
Suicide,
Rekid,
Surgeon,
Soft Cell,
Fela Kuti,
The Slits,
Fugazi,
The Slackers,
The Index,
Flash Fearless,
Scrapy,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.