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 Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moleskins to the grunge 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
Lightning Bolt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sound,
This Heat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Animal Collective,
Ken Boothe,
Judy Mowatt,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kaleidoscope,
Soft Cell,
New York Dolls,
Zapp,
Black Bananas,
Alphaville,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Talk Talk,
John Cale,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barrington Levy,
Pylon,
The Saints,
The Velvet Underground,
Rekid,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Television Personalities,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Robert Wyatt,
Joey Negro,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bluetip,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Standells,
The Trojans,
The Fugs,
Silicon Teens,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Harpers Bizarre,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The United States of America,
Cecil Taylor,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ornette Coleman,
Simply Red,
Roger Hodgson,
Erasure,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agent Orange,
Thompson Twins,
Hardrive,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brand Nubian,
Flash Fearless,
ABC,
Laurel Aitken,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.