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 Marshall Islands and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Barbara Tucker to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Ice-T,
Drexciya,
MDC,
Animal Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fall,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harry Pussy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slits,
Depeche Mode,
Hardrive,
Cheater Slicks,
Marmalade,
Roger Hodgson,
Mr. Review,
Joe Finger,
Roxette,
Suicide,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Faraquet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Remains,
U.S. Maple,
Shuggie Otis,
The Divine Comedy,
Panda Bear,
Black Bananas,
Sex Pistols,
Gerry Rafferty,
Schoolly D,
Mandrill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Josef K,
Cal Tjader,
The Associates,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Gang Starr,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mummies,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ronnie Foster,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June Days,
The Standells,
Man Eating Sloth,
Intrusion,
Crash Course in Science,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young,
Tomorrow,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.