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 Afghanistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Evens to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Avey Tare,
The Stooges,
ABC,
David McCallum,
Altered Images,
Sister Nancy,
the Germs,
Sun City Girls,
U.S. Maple,
The Divine Comedy,
Icehouse,
UT,
Siglo XX,
Gang Starr,
New Order,
Von Mondo,
Fad Gadget,
Mad Mike,
Harmonia,
the Association,
The Searchers,
The Neon Judgement,
The Names,
Roxette,
Erykah Badu,
Rufus Thomas,
Tears for Fears,
Tomorrow,
World's Most,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Masters at Work,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Archie Shepp,
Popol Vuh,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Bananas,
Magazine,
Circle Jerks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ornette Coleman,
Drive Like Jehu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sarah Menescal,
Camouflage,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Guru Guru,
PIL,
Wings,
Prince Buster,
F. McDonald,
The Young Rascals,
Absolute Body Control,
Deepchord,
X-101,
The Raincoats,
Eurythmics,
Stetsasonic,
OOIOO,
Frankie Knuckles,
This Heat,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.