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 China and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Offenders to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Eve St. Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tubeway Army,
Mars,
Boredoms,
Agitation Free,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grauzone,
The Saints,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Bananas,
Erykah Badu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
DNA,
Bluetip,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pagans,
The Fugs,
Wasted Youth,
Panda Bear,
Idris Muhammad,
Minutemen,
June of 44,
The Music Machine,
Altered Images,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harmonia,
Quadrant,
Man Parrish,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Görl,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Holt,
Pere Ubu,
Wire,
Mary Jane Girls,
Echospace,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Velvet Underground,
Clear Light,
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Hood,
Roxette,
Saccharine Trust,
Depeche Mode,
the Sonics,
Von Mondo,
Jacques Brel,
Aloha Tigers,
Average White Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Seeds,
AZ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grandmaster Flash,
Interpol,
Ronnie Foster,
Rosa Yemen,
Lightning Bolt,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.