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 Gabon and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro 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 Yellowson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Q65,
Kaleidoscope,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lucky Dragons,
Grey Daturas,
Vainqueur,
Peter and Kerry,
Terry Callier,
The Blackbyrds,
Suicide,
Echospace,
Todd Rundgren,
Tom Boy,
Stiv Bators,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Al Stewart,
Peter & Gordon,
Scrapy,
New York Dolls,
Ohio Players,
Massinfluence,
Boredoms,
Can,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Symarip,
Magma,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Los Fastidios,
Derrick May,
Deadbeat,
Rosa Yemen,
Q and Not U,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Index,
The Red Krayola,
Bang On A Can,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
The Sound,
David Bowie,
Drexciya,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Moon,
Dawn Penn,
Groovy Waters,
Dave Gahan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crooked Eye,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pierre Henry,
Inner City,
Black Pus,
Country Teasers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scientists,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.