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 Moldova and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Detroit Cobras to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Sam Rivers,
The Star Department,
The Vogues,
Lyres,
Derrick May,
Fat Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
the Normal,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Black Dice,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chrome,
The Angels of Light,
Funky Four + One,
E-Dancer,
The Knickerbockers,
R.M.O.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fela Kuti,
Donny Hathaway,
Laurel Aitken,
Faust,
Sex Pistols,
Oblivians,
Livin' Joy,
Amon Düül,
Gichy Dan,
Maleditus Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Flag,
Pet Shop Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moby Grape,
Magma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantytec,
Boz Scaggs,
The Human League,
New Age Steppers,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Warren Ellis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harmonia,
Cal Tjader,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Electric Prunes,
The Martian,
Severed Heads,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
CMW,
Jeff Lynne,
Mission of Burma,
Dawn Penn,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.