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 Burkina and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar 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 The United States of America to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Man Parrish,
Eddi Front,
Iggy Pop,
Cameo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Wake,
Clear Light,
The Tremeloes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pere Ubu,
The Fortunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rufus Thomas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Urselle,
Kayak,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blossom Toes,
The Selecter,
Toni Rubio,
Bobby Womack,
Cymande,
OOIOO,
The Beau Brummels,
Main Source,
Japan,
MDC,
The Litter,
Dual Sessions,
Boredoms,
Lightning Bolt,
Lyres,
Deakin,
Newcleus,
Hashim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
B.T. Express,
Stiv Bators,
Depeche Mode,
The Martian,
Shuggie Otis,
Niagra,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dawn Penn,
New Order,
Soulsonic Force,
Rod Modell,
Patti Smith,
Sandy B,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nirvana,
Sight & Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kurtis Blow,
Audionom,
Gichy Dan,
Con Funk Shun,
FM Einheit,
Bad Manners,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.