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 Dominican Republic and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Thompson Twins to the rap 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Surgeon,
Suicide,
Funkadelic,
The Dead C,
Stetsasonic,
Terry Callier,
Lakeside,
The Sound,
Electric Prunes,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nico,
Erasure,
Gang Gang Dance,
June Days,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
The New Christs,
Maurizio,
Minny Pops,
Nils Olav,
Tropical Tobacco,
Whodini,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Techniques,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Country Teasers,
Reagan Youth,
Connie Case,
Kerri Chandler,
Motorama,
Panda Bear,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gang Green,
Angry Samoans,
Scion,
Nik Kershaw,
The Wake,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roxy Music,
Pulsallama,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Slick Rick,
Barbara Tucker,
Agent Orange,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Womack,
The American Breed,
Maleditus Sound,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David Axelrod,
kango's stein massive,
The Last Poets,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cramps,
Banda Bassotti,
Marine Girls,
The Slackers,
Crash Course in Science,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.