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 China and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 June of 44 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
the Association,
The Busters,
Motorama,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cramps,
Hoover,
Arab on Radar,
Yellowson,
The United States of America,
kango's stein massive,
Radiohead,
Lou Christie,
The Smoke,
Albert Ayler,
Youth Brigade,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gladiators,
The Electric Prunes,
Todd Rundgren,
Althea and Donna,
the Human League,
B.T. Express,
The Cowsills,
Television Personalities,
Sonny Sharrock,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Sonics,
Ohio Players,
The Durutti Column,
Joensuu 1685,
OOIOO,
Max Romeo,
World's Most,
Sällskapet,
Chrome,
Gong,
Quando Quango,
Gang Green,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mandrill,
The Detroit Cobras,
Iggy Pop,
Magazine,
Vainqueur,
David McCallum,
Letta Mbulu,
Massinfluence,
The Gories,
Crash Course in Science,
Underground Resistance,
The Gap Band,
June Days,
The Doors,
Simply Red,
Don Cherry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quadrant,
Sugar Minott,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.