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 Senegal and from Winnipeg.
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 Calgary and Philadelphia.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Dead Boys to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Intrusion,
Matthew Bourne,
Swell Maps,
Urselle,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Rufus Thomas,
Skaos,
Soul II Soul,
Throbbing Gristle,
New York Dolls,
The Red Krayola,
Sun City Girls,
Quantec,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Martian,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerri Chandler,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Tears for Fears,
These Immortal Souls,
Joey Negro,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Robert Hood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moleskins,
Kayak,
Amon Düül,
Adolescents,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mission of Burma,
Morten Harket,
Nick Fraelich,
Japan,
Alice Coltrane,
Section 25,
Los Fastidios,
The Skatalites,
The Cowsills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
Q65,
The Neon Judgement,
Rakim,
Black Bananas,
Jacob Miller,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Monolake,
Unrelated Segments,
Faraquet,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.