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 Switzerland and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Angels of Light,
Flamin' Groovies,
Man Eating Sloth,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks,
Fatback Band,
Audionom,
The Blues Magoos,
Thee Headcoats,
The Music Machine,
Severed Heads,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Index,
Sarah Menescal,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rapeman,
Lungfish,
Josef K,
Black Sheep,
Mantronix,
Panda Bear,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Neon Judgement,
James White and The Blacks,
Donny Hathaway,
Eddi Front,
Model 500,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Tremeloes,
The Monks,
Tom Boy,
The Golliwogs,
The Dave Clark Five,
OOIOO,
Harpers Bizarre,
ABC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rites of Spring,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mojo Men,
MC5,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Franke,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
Thompson Twins,
Kerri Chandler,
Nirvana,
Sun Ra,
Amon Düül,
The Barracudas,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.