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 Egypt and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe 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 EPMD to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Kas Product,
Nirvana,
The Martian,
Erasure,
T.S.O.L.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mary Jane Girls,
Porter Ricks,
Parry Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cheater Slicks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Beau Brummels,
Bizarre Inc.,
Livin' Joy,
The Evens,
Quando Quango,
Whodini,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Suicide,
The Cramps,
Janne Schatter,
Quadrant,
The Blackbyrds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sam Rivers,
Scott Walker,
Unrelated Segments,
The Remains,
Avey Tare,
Brothers Johnson,
Pantaleimon,
Amon Düül II,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
A Certain Ratio,
The Selecter,
Gabor Szabo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nils Olav,
The Real Kids,
Television Personalities,
The Doors,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Names,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bad Manners,
These Immortal Souls,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Hood,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gories,
Skaos,
The United States of America,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.