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 Comoros and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Blues Magoos 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
Rekid,
Harry Pussy,
Slave,
Arthur Verocai,
Clear Light,
The Residents,
The Five Americans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Boogie Down Productions,
Funky Four + One,
the Slits,
Arcadia,
Bootsy Collins,
The Grass Roots,
Infiniti,
Soul Sonic Force,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Con Funk Shun,
EPMD,
Sam Rivers,
Laurel Aitken,
Motorama,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
OOIOO,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect,
Donald Byrd,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Lynne,
Kerri Chandler,
Tommy Roe,
Gichy Dan,
Jacques Brel,
Sparks,
UT,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camberwell Now,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Severed Heads,
Fear,
Cameo,
Michelle Simonal,
Drexciya,
Ronnie Foster,
Crash Course in Science,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Human League,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Smooth,
Cymande,
R.M.O.,
the Normal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eurythmics,
The Durutti Column,
James White and The Blacks,
The Remains,
Gong,
The Raincoats,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.