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 Solomon Islands and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 X-Ray Spex to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Monks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terry Callier,
Accadde A,
Black Moon,
Fela Kuti,
Aswad,
Bobby Womack,
Eve St. Jones,
Los Fastidios,
Funkadelic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Sherman,
Ludus,
Sparks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Holt,
The Busters,
OOIOO,
Ice-T,
Yazoo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang Green,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kaleidoscope,
Saccharine Trust,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dual Sessions,
Nils Olav,
Shuggie Otis,
Excepter,
Sam Rivers,
The Monochrome Set,
Joe Finger,
The Wake,
Desert Stars,
Amazonics,
Flipper,
Youth Brigade,
Dawn Penn,
Make Up,
Bob Dylan,
Duran Duran,
the Normal,
Minutemen,
Janne Schatter,
Nirvana,
Outsiders,
Neu!,
Zapp,
Sällskapet,
Prince Buster,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Tremeloes,
Eurythmics,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lakeside,
ABC,
Warsaw,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.