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 Chile and from Manila.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Music Machine to the grime 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wally Richardson,
The Slits,
Chris Corsano,
Wings,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skaos,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Buckinghams,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Q and Not U,
Scan 7,
New York Dolls,
Loose Ends,
Flash Fearless,
Ohio Players,
Pagans,
The Cowsills,
the Sonics,
Excepter,
Wolf Eyes,
A Certain Ratio,
Supertramp,
Masters at Work,
Jeru the Damaja,
R.M.O.,
Heaven 17,
The Vogues,
Au Pairs,
Metal Thangz,
Eric B and Rakim,
Althea and Donna,
Porter Ricks,
Pussy Galore,
Nils Olav,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Howard Jones,
Connie Case,
a-ha,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultra Naté,
Mission of Burma,
Con Funk Shun,
Junior Murvin,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Blake Baxter,
In Retrospect,
Jandek,
Eric Dolphy,
The Doors,
Ituana,
Bootsy Collins,
Underground Resistance,
Stiv Bators,
The Gun Club,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.