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 Seychelles and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Model 500,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sandy B,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Leaves,
Blancmange,
Underground Resistance,
Chris & Cosey,
The Star Department,
Das Ding,
DJ Sneak,
Outsiders,
Minnie Riperton,
The Searchers,
MDC,
Porter Ricks,
The Knickerbockers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Residents,
The Barracudas,
The Music Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The New Christs,
Rakim,
Unrelated Segments,
The Modern Lovers,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smoke,
Marc Almond,
Kenny Larkin,
Massinfluence,
Simply Red,
Wasted Youth,
The Move,
Absolute Body Control,
Cheater Slicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fire Engines,
Scientists,
Japan,
Deakin,
June of 44,
Darondo,
Jacques Brel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hot Snakes,
Glenn Branca,
Newcleus,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Stooges,
Bobby Womack,
Max Romeo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Iggy Pop,
Lightning Bolt,
Pagans,
Slick Rick,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.