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 Uruguay and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Martian to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Radio Birdman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pussy Galore,
Aloha Tigers,
Drexciya,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Robert Görl,
Bad Manners,
the Sonics,
Michelle Simonal,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Lindisfarne,
the Normal,
Al Stewart,
Davy DMX,
Blake Baxter,
Trumans Water,
X-102,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dual Sessions,
Man Parrish,
Bush Tetras,
The Last Poets,
Anakelly,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Count Five,
Boredoms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Alton Ellis,
Surgeon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Swans,
Desert Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Laurel Aitken,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Metal Thangz,
John Holt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hot Snakes,
Pulsallama,
X-Ray Spex,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
New York Dolls,
Index,
Lucky Dragons,
T.S.O.L.,
Camouflage,
Joensuu 1685,
The Sound,
The Monks,
Bobby Womack,
Connie Case,
the Fania All-Stars,
Icehouse,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.