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 Mexico and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Cymande to the funk 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Von Mondo,
Camberwell Now,
PIL,
Tom Boy,
Roger Hodgson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arcadia,
Scrapy,
Buzzcocks,
Juan Atkins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Flesh Eaters,
Moss Icon,
LL Cool J,
Laurel Aitken,
The Monks,
Minnie Riperton,
The Young Rascals,
Boredoms,
Soul II Soul,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mantronix,
Rekid,
Faraquet,
Minor Threat,
The Pop Group,
FM Einheit,
Panda Bear,
Ultravox,
Nik Kershaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
K-Klass,
Frankie Knuckles,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Divine Comedy,
Dead Boys,
Brand Nubian,
John Holt,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pantytec,
ABC,
Suburban Knight,
Todd Terry,
Masters at Work,
Skriet,
Eurythmics,
The Star Department,
Graham Central Station,
Crooked Eye,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Anakelly,
Smog,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marc Almond,
The Gladiators,
Iggy Pop,
Clear Light,
Kurtis Blow,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.