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 Norway and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fela Kuti to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Eve St. Jones,
Infiniti,
The Mummies,
Brothers Johnson,
Maleditus Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scion,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Wake,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kas Product,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The United States of America,
the Soft Cell,
Organ,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
Black Pus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Altered Images,
Mary Jane Girls,
10cc,
The Birthday Party,
OOIOO,
Technova,
Sun City Girls,
The Litter,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lucky Dragons,
the Swans,
Silicon Teens,
Mr. Review,
Yellowson,
The Divine Comedy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Con Funk Shun,
Hoover,
Don Cherry,
MDC,
Hasil Adkins,
Masters at Work,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Underground Resistance,
Darondo,
Ornette Coleman,
E-Dancer,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox,
Wally Richardson,
Stereo Dub,
T. Rex,
Jacob Miller,
Fluxion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Al Stewart,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Monochrome Set,
Faraquet,
Zero Boys,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.