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 Korea North and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Zero Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
Eddi Front,
Patti Smith,
The Evens,
Joy Division,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Walker Brothers,
the Slits,
Arab on Radar,
Scrapy,
Jeff Lynne,
Altered Images,
Mantronix,
Charles Mingus,
Erasure,
Franke,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eli Mardock,
Jawbox,
The Five Americans,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slave,
The Misunderstood,
Brand Nubian,
Scratch Acid,
Al Stewart,
La Düsseldorf,
Matthew Halsall,
Derrick May,
Reagan Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quadrant,
Robert Görl,
The Cure,
Urselle,
Dorothy Ashby,
Magazine,
Gichy Dan,
Minny Pops,
Rosa Yemen,
Delon & Dalcan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scientists,
U.S. Maple,
the Normal,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Idris Muhammad,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Icehouse,
Lebanon Hanover,
10cc,
Spandau Ballet,
The Searchers,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.