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 Dominica and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 sitar 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 Sällskapet to the grunge 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Godley & Creme,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kurtis Blow,
Cluster,
Yaz,
Magazine,
The Blackbyrds,
Royal Trux,
Kenny Larkin,
Althea and Donna,
Juan Atkins,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood,
Leonard Cohen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Charles Mingus,
Aaron Thompson,
Pierre Henry,
Derrick May,
The Vogues,
Khruangbin,
The Victims,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül,
The Music Machine,
Simply Red,
The Kinks,
Wasted Youth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The United States of America,
Black Bananas,
Todd Rundgren,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stiv Bators,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Moon,
The Angels of Light,
Roxette,
Suburban Knight,
Los Fastidios,
Tomorrow,
Oneida,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Wells,
The Durutti Column,
JFA,
FM Einheit,
Susan Cadogan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ohio Players,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Fraelich,
Bang On A Can,
Neu!,
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Flash Fearless,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.