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 Sudan and from Philadelphia.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Negative Approach to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Agitation Free,
Amon Düül II,
Letta Mbulu,
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
Cal Tjader,
Suicide,
Zero Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
R.M.O.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alton Ellis,
Subhumans,
Radiopuhelimet,
World's Most,
Don Cherry,
Guru Guru,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pagans,
The Kinks,
Fugazi,
Intrusion,
Al Stewart,
Skriet,
Albert Ayler,
Flash Fearless,
Iggy Pop,
Simply Red,
Electric Prunes,
The Sonics,
The Invisible,
Alphaville,
Susan Cadogan,
DNA,
Visage,
The Trojans,
Crime,
New Age Steppers,
Eric Copeland,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pussy Galore,
Jawbox,
Ituana,
Isaac Hayes,
Alison Limerick,
Supertramp,
The Knickerbockers,
June Days,
Rakim,
Minutemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Goldenarms,
The Doors,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.