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 Equatorial Guinea and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum 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 Black Sheep to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
New Age Steppers,
Kerri Chandler,
The Last Poets,
The Fortunes,
Carl Craig,
Dave Gahan,
Isaac Hayes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Subhumans,
Rod Modell,
Vainqueur,
Infiniti,
Ultravox,
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
a-ha,
ABC,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smoke,
Prince Buster,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Enemy,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Minor Threat,
The New Christs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Accadde A,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Avey Tare,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Victims,
The Saints,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Laurel Aitken,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Görl,
MC5,
Magma,
The Sound,
Crime,
Grey Daturas,
Sällskapet,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Buckinghams,
Y Pants,
Pulsallama,
Soul II Soul,
Slave,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Barracudas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lalann,
The Black Dice,
Fad Gadget,
June Days,
Loose Ends,
Idris Muhammad,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.