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 Mauritius and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Sam Rivers to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Chrome,
Alphaville,
Easy Going,
Scratch Acid,
The Skatalites,
Donald Byrd,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Can,
Henry Cow,
PIL,
UT,
The Techniques,
Niagra,
Crooked Eye,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mission of Burma,
Rosa Yemen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun Ra,
Masters at Work,
The Moody Blues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Delon & Dalcan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Starr,
Spandau Ballet,
Sixth Finger,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yellowson,
Eddi Front,
Desert Stars,
Ituana,
Simply Red,
The Gories,
Faust,
Qualms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Eating Sloth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Unwound,
Outsiders,
Nils Olav,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Hood,
Joensuu 1685,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
T. Rex,
ABC,
Bob Dylan,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.