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 Taiwan and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 World's Most to the crunk 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Slits,
CMW,
The Remains,
Slave,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Wyatt,
Bob Dylan,
Moss Icon,
Sex Pistols,
Nas,
Hasil Adkins,
Warren Ellis,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Clarke,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Birthday Party,
Infiniti,
Jeff Mills,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Average White Band,
These Immortal Souls,
The Monochrome Set,
It's A Beautiful Day,
B.T. Express,
The Seeds,
Iggy Pop,
Funkadelic,
Tears for Fears,
Byron Stingily,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nik Kershaw,
Derrick Morgan,
The Velvet Underground,
Franke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Quadrant,
the Bar-Kays,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Letta Mbulu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Reuben Wilson,
The Evens,
Morten Harket,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Moleskins,
PIL,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Metal Thangz,
Tommy Roe,
a-ha,
Tropical Tobacco,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.