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 Eritrea and from London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rock 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dawn Penn,
Boredoms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
New York Dolls,
Mars,
Jacques Brel,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bauhaus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Youth Brigade,
Hashim,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mandrill,
Deakin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marmalade,
H. Thieme,
Iggy Pop,
Man Parrish,
Simply Red,
Marine Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-Ray Spex,
Nas,
U.S. Maple,
Blancmange,
The Slackers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Maurizio,
The Fugs,
Rakim,
Kenny Larkin,
Skaos,
Jesper Dahlback,
Unwound,
Masters at Work,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Knickerbockers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Metal Thangz,
Yazoo,
Lalann,
Idris Muhammad,
Junior Murvin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Robert Hood,
The Cramps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Dolphy,
Alton Ellis,
The Last Poets,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slick Rick,
The Searchers,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.