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 Cambodia and from Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Anakelly to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Black Sheep,
Spoonie Gee,
Wasted Youth,
The Saints,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rapeman,
Index,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rosa Yemen,
Theoretical Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
the Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Skriet,
Scion,
H. Thieme,
Joey Negro,
Moby Grape,
Oblivians,
The Trojans,
Fatback Band,
Pere Ubu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Howard Jones,
Hasil Adkins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeru the Damaja,
Intrusion,
Sight & Sound,
Marine Girls,
Nils Olav,
Lyres,
Magazine,
Anakelly,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Happenings,
Steve Hackett,
Ultra Naté,
Panda Bear,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
OOIOO,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Style,
Swans,
Circle Jerks,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Pus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Electric Prunes,
Warsaw,
Amazonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quantec,
The Electric Prunes,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.