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 Brazil and from New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 kango's stein massive to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Sneak,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neu!,
Model 500,
DJ Style,
Livin' Joy,
Shoche,
The Divine Comedy,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Lalann,
The Birthday Party,
Derrick May,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Bourne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Janne Schatter,
Blancmange,
Swans,
Pylon,
Lou Christie,
Black Bananas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crooked Eye,
MC5,
The Kinks,
The Slackers,
Electric Prunes,
the Human League,
The Doors,
Accadde A,
Ice-T,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Y Pants,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Byrd,
Joy Division,
Agitation Free,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Easy Going,
Warsaw,
The Seeds,
Nico,
The Buckinghams,
Cheater Slicks,
Laurel Aitken,
The Velvet Underground,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Skriet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Althea and Donna,
Audionom,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.