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 Nigeria and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Cymande to the punk 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Young Rascals,
Pantaleimon,
Buzzcocks,
Fad Gadget,
Underground Resistance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cecil Taylor,
Scratch Acid,
The Toasters,
Robert Görl,
Idris Muhammad,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Japan,
The Divine Comedy,
Radio Birdman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ice-T,
the Bar-Kays,
David Bowie,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Junior Murvin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minnie Riperton,
Aaron Thompson,
Section 25,
The Walker Brothers,
Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Thee Headcoats,
The Raincoats,
Tears for Fears,
The Leaves,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers,
Au Pairs,
Loose Ends,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
Urselle,
Magma,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dead Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sarah Menescal,
Soft Cell,
Vainqueur,
Siglo XX,
Minor Threat,
Darondo,
Barbara Tucker,
The Pretty Things,
Sun City Girls,
The Fortunes,
Stereo Dub,
Ossler,
Bauhaus,
Rod Modell,
Banda Bassotti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.