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 Congo and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the techno 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Fraelich,
James White and The Blacks,
Pole,
Au Pairs,
Gong,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Lydon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxette,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Womack,
Black Moon,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Flag,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alton Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
B.T. Express,
Moebius,
Banda Bassotti,
the Sonics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anakelly,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
The Blues Magoos,
Quando Quango,
Harmonia,
Rotary Connection,
Morten Harket,
Ronnie Foster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kevin Saunderson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiopuhelimet,
Derrick May,
Darondo,
Joensuu 1685,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stereo Dub,
The Moleskins,
Aswad,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Procol Harum,
Marmalade,
Joy Division,
John Foxx,
Angry Samoans,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Star Department,
KRS-One,
Ken Boothe,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.