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 Nepal and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Minny Pops to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Ice-T,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
Barbara Tucker,
Harmonia,
Don Cherry,
48th St. Collective,
Blake Baxter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Janne Schatter,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
Banda Bassotti,
Drive Like Jehu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Agent Orange,
The Fall,
Scott Walker,
The Cure,
Tom Boy,
L. Decosne,
Royal Trux,
The Golliwogs,
Hot Snakes,
Oneida,
Rosa Yemen,
The Searchers,
Tres Demented,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Mad Mike,
Derrick May,
Barry Ungar,
Inner City,
The Litter,
The Last Poets,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marshall Jefferson,
One Last Wish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sandy B,
Oblivians,
Matthew Bourne,
Visage,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rakim,
This Heat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Aloha Tigers,
H. Thieme,
New York Dolls,
Lee Hazlewood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Surgeon,
Steve Hackett,
the Soft Cell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lightning Bolt,
cv313,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.