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 Marshall Islands and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marmalade to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
B.T. Express,
Black Sheep,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Monks,
Sonic Youth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
World's Most,
Mark Hollis,
Ultravox,
Mo-Dettes,
Pantytec,
Jawbox,
Bobby Sherman,
The Modern Lovers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aloha Tigers,
Minutemen,
Aaron Thompson,
EPMD,
The Cure,
Intrusion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Erasure,
Bobby Womack,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Albert Ayler,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Liliput,
Anthony Braxton,
Scientists,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
This Heat,
The Techniques,
Rites of Spring,
the Swans,
Lightning Bolt,
One Last Wish,
Can,
OOIOO,
L. Decosne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brand Nubian,
Piero Umiliani,
Judy Mowatt,
China Crisis,
Chrome,
Wally Richardson,
The Leaves,
Junior Murvin,
The J.B.'s,
Tom Boy,
Interpol,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fugazi,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.