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 Cyprus and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Excepter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
The Skatalites,
Quantec,
Hardrive,
Newcleus,
Donald Byrd,
Malaria!,
Amazonics,
OOIOO,
The Cramps,
Moby Grape,
LL Cool J,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultimate Spinach,
Reuben Wilson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mantronix,
The Leaves,
The Grass Roots,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Wyatt,
The Smiths,
Slave,
Cymande,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stereo Dub,
Fat Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
FM Einheit,
Talk Talk,
Dead Boys,
Second Layer,
Judy Mowatt,
Skriet,
Jerry's Kids,
The Real Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sonics,
Neu!,
Sonic Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
John Holt,
the Slits,
Negative Approach,
Kas Product,
The Modern Lovers,
Popol Vuh,
China Crisis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bluetip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Dirtbombs,
The Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.