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 Ghana and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Monks,
Metal Thangz,
The Pretty Things,
Hashim,
The Toasters,
Ohio Players,
The Stooges,
The Young Rascals,
Graham Central Station,
Iggy Pop,
Scan 7,
the Normal,
Interpol,
Peter & Gordon,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
The Grass Roots,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Last Poets,
Gang of Four,
Mission of Burma,
Sex Pistols,
Eddi Front,
Suburban Knight,
The Seeds,
Au Pairs,
LL Cool J,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jerry's Kids,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crooked Eye,
Stetsasonic,
Cal Tjader,
Pantytec,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Barbara Tucker,
Boogie Down Productions,
Trumans Water,
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
Traffic Nightmare,
Can,
Mad Mike,
Aural Exciters,
Bluetip,
The Human League,
Schoolly D,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeff Mills,
The Happenings,
Archie Shepp,
K-Klass,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Arab on Radar,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alice Coltrane,
Lungfish,
Alphaville,
The Victims,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.