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 Samoa and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 CMW to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
PIL,
Cal Tjader,
Chrome,
Kool Moe Dee,
David Bowie,
Matthew Halsall,
Niagra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Japan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Copeland,
Faraquet,
Lalann,
Los Fastidios,
The Doobie Brothers,
Danielle Patucci,
H. Thieme,
Eve St. Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Smog,
Fluxion,
Outsiders,
Sixth Finger,
T. Rex,
the Slits,
Negative Approach,
The Victims,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Schoolly D,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June of 44,
The Neon Judgement,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Morten Harket,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Q and Not U,
Terry Callier,
Kerri Chandler,
Soulsonic Force,
Roxette,
Althea and Donna,
Talk Talk,
World's Most,
Minutemen,
The Last Poets,
Yellowson,
Barrington Levy,
Audionom,
The Skatalites,
Ituana,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
OOIOO,
Eurythmics,
Sam Rivers,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.