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 Tunisia and from Milan.
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 Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Red Krayola to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Scientists,
48th St. Collective,
Ponytail,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Freddie Wadling,
MDC,
Godley & Creme,
Aswad,
Rekid,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rosa Yemen,
Skriet,
The Residents,
Rites of Spring,
Sonic Youth,
The Divine Comedy,
The Leaves,
Lebanon Hanover,
Severed Heads,
Kerri Chandler,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rod Modell,
The Seeds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Buckinghams,
Suicide,
Dead Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Visage,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gun Club,
Yellowson,
X-Ray Spex,
DNA,
Suburban Knight,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Clarke,
Ten City,
Carl Craig,
Graham Central Station,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
Minnie Riperton,
Harmonia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aural Exciters,
Inner City,
Eric Copeland,
The Moleskins,
Joyce Sims,
Whodini,
OOIOO,
The Black Dice,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Bar-Kays,
Gong,
The Grass Roots,
Half Japanese,
Gerry Rafferty,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.