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 Colombia 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Glambeats Corp. to the crunk 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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Morten Harket,
Underground Resistance,
The Gun Club,
Nils Olav,
Angry Samoans,
R.M.O.,
Kerri Chandler,
Cybotron,
The Birthday Party,
The Remains,
Interpol,
Howard Jones,
Nirvana,
Country Teasers,
Frankie Knuckles,
ABBA,
Aloha Tigers,
Gichy Dan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agitation Free,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skarface,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
Ultra Naté,
Ituana,
Toni Rubio,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neil Young,
Surgeon,
E-Dancer,
T.S.O.L.,
Television,
Aural Exciters,
Andrew Hill,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Lynne,
Easy Going,
Ponytail,
Wings,
Davy DMX,
Cluster,
Shuggie Otis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultravox,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Cale,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
David Bowie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lower 48,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.