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 Iran and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar 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 Nico to the punk 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barclay James Harvest,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joy Division,
The Last Poets,
Sugar Minott,
Procol Harum,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Pus,
Mad Mike,
Pantytec,
John Lydon,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Offenders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Malaria!,
Eddi Front,
Spoonie Gee,
Absolute Body Control,
Yaz,
The Slackers,
James White and The Blacks,
Eurythmics,
Bauhaus,
Rekid,
Roxette,
The Raincoats,
The Human League,
Jeff Mills,
the Normal,
Suburban Knight,
The Dave Clark Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yellowson,
Ponytail,
the Germs,
Minny Pops,
Bluetip,
Young Marble Giants,
DJ Style,
Bootsy Collins,
Panda Bear,
ABC,
Crime,
Delon & Dalcan,
Minnie Riperton,
The Black Dice,
Juan Atkins,
Depeche Mode,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Happenings,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gap Band,
Au Pairs,
Lou Reed,
Anakelly,
kango's stein massive,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.