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 Guyana and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Joyce Sims,
The Saints,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Babytalk,
Darondo,
B.T. Express,
Flipper,
Connie Case,
The Doors,
Bauhaus,
F. McDonald,
New Age Steppers,
L. Decosne,
The Beau Brummels,
D'Angelo,
Todd Rundgren,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Judy Mowatt,
Duran Duran,
Dual Sessions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Stiv Bators,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mark Hollis,
Blossom Toes,
The Gap Band,
The Move,
Ten City,
Eurythmics,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
Das Ding,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
The Monks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
These Immortal Souls,
Skriet,
AZ,
Nik Kershaw,
Fela Kuti,
The Leaves,
Alice Coltrane,
Heaven 17,
Grey Daturas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Slits,
Masters at Work,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alphaville,
Echospace,
Chrome,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Youth Brigade,
Arab on Radar,
Ralphi Rosario,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tim Buckley,
Archie Shepp,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.