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 Cuba and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Brick to the grunge 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
KRS-One,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tres Demented,
Iggy Pop,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric Dolphy,
Roxette,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eddi Front,
Black Sheep,
Ornette Coleman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yusef Lateef,
Mission of Burma,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nico,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Zero Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Sandy B,
Pere Ubu,
The Black Dice,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sonny Sharrock,
MDC,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Agent Orange,
Mars,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Cale,
Joe Finger,
Lyres,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
Idris Muhammad,
JFA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Godley & Creme,
The Durutti Column,
Harmonia,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Sherman,
The Victims,
Animal Collective,
Depeche Mode,
Spandau Ballet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The New Christs,
Yazoo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mandrill,
the Bar-Kays,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Human League,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.