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 Marshall Islands and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 The Victims 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Archie Shepp,
Gang of Four,
Roger Hodgson,
Aaron Thompson,
Faust,
Reuben Wilson,
Intrusion,
Inner City,
Animal Collective,
Aural Exciters,
The Human League,
K-Klass,
Jandek,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Infiniti,
The Star Department,
Country Teasers,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cameo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
8 Eyed Spy,
EPMD,
Cecil Taylor,
One Last Wish,
Vladislav Delay,
This Heat,
Roxy Music,
The Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Circle Jerks,
Blake Baxter,
AZ,
Kenny Larkin,
Deepchord,
X-101,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-102,
Bad Manners,
Quadrant,
Agent Orange,
Godley & Creme,
Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
The Modern Lovers,
Bush Tetras,
Interpol,
Al Stewart,
Davy DMX,
Sonic Youth,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harmonia,
Y Pants,
Barry Ungar,
Banda Bassotti,
Surgeon,
Simply Red,
The Slackers,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.