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 Pakistan and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 LL Cool J to the dance 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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
the Sonics,
Moss Icon,
Pantytec,
Yusef Lateef,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Judy Mowatt,
Grauzone,
Sun City Girls,
Babytalk,
Dead Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
Peter & Gordon,
Eden Ahbez,
KRS-One,
Dawn Penn,
Henry Cow,
Hoover,
Archie Shepp,
OOIOO,
Electric Prunes,
The Names,
Lightning Bolt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Von Mondo,
the Normal,
Brothers Johnson,
Deadbeat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Roxy Music,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Count Five,
The Buckinghams,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers,
New York Dolls,
Mars,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Byrd,
The New Christs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New Order,
Mission of Burma,
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
X-101,
Davy DMX,
The Human League,
Simply Red,
The Searchers,
Accadde A,
The Cramps,
Section 25,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiohead,
The Standells,
Arthur Verocai,
Spandau Ballet,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.