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 Luxembourg and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scratch Acid to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Mars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nik Kershaw,
8 Eyed Spy,
Swans,
Half Japanese,
Sun Ra,
The Real Kids,
Rapeman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fall,
Lou Christie,
Anthony Braxton,
Warsaw,
Roxy Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Misunderstood,
Amazonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Jandek,
Deakin,
John Lydon,
Wally Richardson,
Magma,
cv313,
Pere Ubu,
Ronan,
Todd Terry,
The Remains,
Joy Division,
The Golliwogs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skarface,
Sister Nancy,
Crash Course in Science,
Faraquet,
The Gladiators,
Zapp,
Essential Logic,
The Blues Magoos,
Dave Gahan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eli Mardock,
Flash Fearless,
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Blake Baxter,
Chris Corsano,
Alison Limerick,
Fat Boys,
Loose Ends,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dennis Brown,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.