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 Madagascar and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 organ 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 Au Pairs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Surgeon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Gang Starr,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bush Tetras,
Stetsasonic,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sight & Sound,
Altered Images,
Faraquet,
A Certain Ratio,
The Young Rascals,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slackers,
Bill Wells,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-102,
The Black Dice,
John Lydon,
The Selecter,
Cameo,
Ludus,
Kaleidoscope,
The Red Krayola,
the Human League,
Lucky Dragons,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Sherman,
Television Personalities,
Rekid,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scrapy,
Ronnie Foster,
Sandy B,
John Holt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nico,
L. Decosne,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radio Birdman,
Pantytec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Modern Lovers,
Sound Behaviour,
ABC,
Mars,
The Velvet Underground,
D'Angelo,
Peter and Kerry,
Isaac Hayes,
The Toasters,
Livin' Joy,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.