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 Monaco and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro 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 X-Ray Spex to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
Royal Trux,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ten City,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Whodini,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Move,
Smog,
Motorama,
The Young Rascals,
the Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
Hoover,
Scratch Acid,
Ice-T,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James White and The Blacks,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Reuben Wilson,
Accadde A,
Joyce Sims,
U.S. Maple,
Steve Hackett,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Star Department,
Moebius,
KRS-One,
The Slackers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Visage,
Franke,
Vladislav Delay,
Cameo,
Chrome,
Arcadia,
Masters at Work,
The Human League,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joe Smooth,
The Tremeloes,
Y Pants,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mojo Men,
John Foxx,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Wells,
The Fuzztones,
Dennis Brown,
Lakeside,
Brass Construction,
Depeche Mode,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kaleidoscope,
Brand Nubian,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.