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 Brunei and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 American Breed to the punk 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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars 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?
Max Romeo,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Golliwogs,
Los Fastidios,
Slick Rick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Christie,
Nico,
The Mighty Diamonds,
48th St. Collective,
Charles Mingus,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Music Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Jeru the Damaja,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Kinks,
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Wyatt,
Unwound,
Cheater Slicks,
Peter & Gordon,
Eden Ahbez,
Rufus Thomas,
Drive Like Jehu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
David McCallum,
Mad Mike,
The Victims,
Joyce Sims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sällskapet,
This Heat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roy Ayers,
The Names,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hoover,
The Velvet Underground,
Scan 7,
Pole,
The Index,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Graham Central Station,
Guru Guru,
Davy DMX,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Star Department,
Michelle Simonal,
Jawbox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
June Days,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crooked Eye,
John Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
The Remains,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.