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 Mali and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Eurythmics to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
The Grass Roots,
Sex Pistols,
Yazoo,
Unwound,
Idris Muhammad,
Absolute Body Control,
FM Einheit,
The Kinks,
Metal Thangz,
The Dirtbombs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hoover,
Ornette Coleman,
Dark Day,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Christie,
Max Romeo,
Panda Bear,
Soul II Soul,
Aswad,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Misunderstood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Easy Going,
Juan Atkins,
Circle Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Whodini,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Sheep,
One Last Wish,
Mark Hollis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pantaleimon,
Harmonia,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Velvet Underground,
June of 44,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Germs,
Little Man,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Outsiders,
Ohio Players,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Hill,
David McCallum,
Cal Tjader,
Television,
Barbara Tucker,
Spandau Ballet,
Wolf Eyes,
Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
Bobby Womack,
Hardrive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stetsasonic,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.