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 Brazil and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Excepter to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Scientists,
Ice-T,
Robert Hood,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Raincoats,
Iggy Pop,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pagans,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Flag,
Danielle Patucci,
Model 500,
Swans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ronnie Foster,
Al Stewart,
Ponytail,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Selecter,
Black Moon,
Das Ding,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Birthday Party,
Camouflage,
Newcleus,
The Residents,
Circle Jerks,
The Move,
June of 44,
Eddi Front,
This Heat,
48th St. Collective,
Soul Sonic Force,
Freddie Wadling,
The Moleskins,
Accadde A,
The Red Krayola,
Inner City,
Parry Music,
Bluetip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harmonia,
Fela Kuti,
Morten Harket,
Ken Boothe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Khruangbin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The United States of America,
The Doors,
Nico,
Man Eating Sloth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
UT,
Theoretical Girls,
Tim Buckley,
The Electric Prunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Fugazi,
H. Thieme,
The Slits,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.