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 Sri Lanka and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Busters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Skarface,
Urselle,
Skaos,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gladiators,
the Slits,
Mr. Review,
Drexciya,
The J.B.'s,
Suicide,
Barclay James Harvest,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Neil Young,
The American Breed,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fugs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Colin Newman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yaz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fad Gadget,
Joensuu 1685,
John Lydon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ice-T,
Joe Smooth,
Babytalk,
Blake Baxter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Saccharine Trust,
Magma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Groovy Waters,
Anakelly,
Lalo Schifrin,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-102,
The Gun Club,
the Human League,
Pylon,
Rufus Thomas,
Shuggie Otis,
Warren Ellis,
Moby Grape,
The Zeros,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Newcleus,
Bootsy Collins,
The Barracudas,
the Association,
Country Teasers,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.