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 Ecuador and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Amazonics to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Letta Mbulu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fugazi,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lungfish,
Supertramp,
Graham Central Station,
Second Layer,
Black Pus,
Wasted Youth,
10cc,
Amazonics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Names,
David McCallum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wolf Eyes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fluxion,
The Dead C,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Prunes,
Rakim,
Quantec,
Kool Moe Dee,
KRS-One,
Agitation Free,
Roger Hodgson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bob Dylan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Panda Bear,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lindisfarne,
Chrome,
Joe Finger,
PIL,
The Saints,
China Crisis,
Porter Ricks,
Michelle Simonal,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Cale,
Al Stewart,
Eddi Front,
The Knickerbockers,
Max Romeo,
Lyres,
Yazoo,
Mr. Review,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Moby Grape,
Rekid,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.