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 Uruguay and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roxy Music to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Black Flag,
Tears for Fears,
Barry Ungar,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Smoke,
New Order,
The Gun Club,
The Fall,
Shuggie Otis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Con Funk Shun,
T.S.O.L.,
The Black Dice,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June of 44,
Cal Tjader,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sam Rivers,
Deadbeat,
Godley & Creme,
Juan Atkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crime,
Patti Smith,
Derrick May,
Vladislav Delay,
Subhumans,
Spandau Ballet,
Carl Craig,
Q65,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Monks,
Hashim,
Fear,
Simply Red,
F. McDonald,
Kaleidoscope,
Avey Tare,
Agent Orange,
Swell Maps,
Porter Ricks,
Scrapy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Prunes,
Ten City,
Piero Umiliani,
Hasil Adkins,
Aaron Thompson,
Desert Stars,
The Smiths,
ABBA,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül II,
The Divine Comedy,
Sex Pistols,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sixth Finger,
Animal Collective,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.