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 Sudan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aswad to the jazz 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris Corsano,
DNA,
Byron Stingily,
Alton Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
Con Funk Shun,
Average White Band,
The Pop Group,
The Blackbyrds,
The Angels of Light,
This Heat,
MC5,
Roxette,
Franke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Victims,
Roxy Music,
Saccharine Trust,
Zero Boys,
Simply Red,
The Last Poets,
The Sound,
ABC,
Gregory Isaacs,
Young Marble Giants,
L. Decosne,
Spoonie Gee,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Residents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donald Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
Echospace,
Sly & The Family Stone,
U.S. Maple,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
Funkadelic,
Panda Bear,
The Cramps,
Mars,
Dawn Penn,
Public Enemy,
Colin Newman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moleskins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Qualms,
Ludus,
The Dead C,
Nico,
Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marmalade,
Half Japanese,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.