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 Chile and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lalo Schifrin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Minor Threat,
Dual Sessions,
cv313,
H. Thieme,
Donald Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
Babytalk,
The Knickerbockers,
Derrick May,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Stooges,
Pylon,
Sugar Minott,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Pus,
Average White Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nils Olav,
Robert Görl,
Roy Ayers,
The Leaves,
Excepter,
Gabor Szabo,
Reuben Wilson,
Drexciya,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marvin Gaye,
Gastr Del Sol,
Franke,
Icehouse,
a-ha,
Simply Red,
The Fall,
The Star Department,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jacques Brel,
the Bar-Kays,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Thee Headcoats,
Stereo Dub,
Pussy Galore,
MDC,
The Searchers,
Gang Starr,
Boredoms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mission of Burma,
The Moody Blues,
Smog,
The Remains,
Black Flag,
Newcleus,
Hasil Adkins,
New Order,
Dead Boys,
Grauzone,
Cluster,
Negative Approach,
Charles Mingus,
The Golliwogs,
The Smiths,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.