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 Costa Rica and from London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 güiro 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 Johnny Clarke to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Saccharine Trust,
the Swans,
Supertramp,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott Heron,
Vladislav Delay,
Wings,
Steve Hackett,
Ronan,
Peter and Kerry,
Niagra,
Subhumans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dawn Penn,
The Searchers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scion,
Sixth Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Wasted Youth,
The Moody Blues,
The Pretty Things,
Ornette Coleman,
Rakim,
Stockholm Monsters,
CMW,
Angry Samoans,
Quantec,
Carl Craig,
Funky Four + One,
Radiohead,
The Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Mad Mike,
Fat Boys,
John Cale,
Roxy Music,
Qualms,
Sex Pistols,
Brass Construction,
Desert Stars,
Main Source,
Cheater Slicks,
The Real Kids,
KRS-One,
Skriet,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reagan Youth,
Babytalk,
Gang Green,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper,
Scientists,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Panda Bear,
Easy Going,
Moss Icon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.