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 Cambodia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 The Zeros to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dead Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Neu!,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Evens,
Maurizio,
Rosa Yemen,
Pussy Galore,
the Germs,
The Smoke,
Con Funk Shun,
kango's stein massive,
The Motions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Darondo,
Minny Pops,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jerry's Kids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Beau Brummels,
Average White Band,
Jacques Brel,
World's Most,
Khruangbin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Popol Vuh,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
EPMD,
X-102,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sister Nancy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Loose Ends,
Malaria!,
Pagans,
Oneida,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sixth Finger,
The Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Pet Shop Boys,
Urselle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
D'Angelo,
The Kinks,
Warren Ellis,
Bootsy Collins,
Faust,
Blossom Toes,
The Happenings,
Harmonia,
Bronski Beat,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Doors,
Steve Hackett,
Soft Cell,
Faraquet,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.