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 Gambia and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 These Immortal Souls to the grunge 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Duran Duran,
Joe Smooth,
The Fortunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Das Ding,
Lee Hazlewood,
David McCallum,
The Invisible,
Piero Umiliani,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scion,
Symarip,
Erasure,
Depeche Mode,
D'Angelo,
Harmonia,
Cymande,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Flag,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Black Dice,
The Index,
Lower 48,
Mandrill,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
T. Rex,
Alice Coltrane,
Tears for Fears,
The Smiths,
Scrapy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
These Immortal Souls,
Bluetip,
Arthur Verocai,
Fugazi,
L. Decosne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camouflage,
Agent Orange,
Gichy Dan,
Grauzone,
Mo-Dettes,
Intrusion,
The Pop Group,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The J.B.'s,
Kerri Chandler,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Teasers,
John Coltrane,
Black Moon,
Ohio Players,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mark Hollis,
Ituana,
The Toasters,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.