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 Sweden and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Sheep to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Scientists,
The Raincoats,
The Cowsills,
Make Up,
Donny Hathaway,
Swell Maps,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boredoms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Intrusion,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
Oblivians,
The Blues Magoos,
Simply Red,
The Buckinghams,
MDC,
Amazonics,
ABC,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Normal,
The Wake,
Reuben Wilson,
Unrelated Segments,
Pussy Galore,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Order,
The Fuzztones,
Ten City,
John Lydon,
Visage,
Skaos,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maleditus Sound,
Peter & Gordon,
Kaleidoscope,
Motorama,
Charles Mingus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Harpers Bizarre,
Y Pants,
Accadde A,
Moss Icon,
Pole,
Rapeman,
Ultravox,
Isaac Hayes,
Lyres,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sarah Menescal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Graham Central Station,
Nico,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moody Blues,
Buzzcocks,
Patti Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Wolf Eyes,
DJ Style,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.