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 Azerbaijan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Divine Comedy to the disco 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Skriet,
The Offenders,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Steve Hackett,
Dennis Brown,
8 Eyed Spy,
Surgeon,
Don Cherry,
The Last Poets,
Kerri Chandler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Pus,
Gong,
the Normal,
Pantytec,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Davy DMX,
Glambeats Corp.,
Interpol,
The Neon Judgement,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Sonics,
Mr. Review,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Byron Stingily,
Quadrant,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brick,
Sixth Finger,
Unrelated Segments,
Todd Rundgren,
Minutemen,
Scrapy,
Pole,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Certain Ratio,
These Immortal Souls,
Brand Nubian,
Fad Gadget,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scott Walker,
Soft Machine,
Swans,
Monolake,
Ituana,
The Slackers,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quando Quango,
Symarip,
Slave,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Terry,
Susan Cadogan,
F. McDonald,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.