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 Andorra and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 Accadde A to the grime 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Womack,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rosa Yemen,
MDC,
Deepchord,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lalann,
The Smoke,
Bluetip,
Fear,
Echospace,
Sixth Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Panda Bear,
Grey Daturas,
The Wake,
Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
Crooked Eye,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mojo Men,
Buzzcocks,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Smiths,
Audionom,
Television,
Kenny Larkin,
Joy Division,
Pylon,
Eden Ahbez,
Fluxion,
The Durutti Column,
Tom Boy,
Hot Snakes,
Max Romeo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pantaleimon,
Tears for Fears,
Gang Green,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeff Lynne,
The Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
Idris Muhammad,
Cheater Slicks,
Arcadia,
Young Marble Giants,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Con Funk Shun,
Gong,
Lightning Bolt,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.