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 United States and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Organ to the rap 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Trumans Water,
Duran Duran,
Mad Mike,
Tomorrow,
Crash Course in Science,
Bush Tetras,
Black Pus,
Deadbeat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Moody Blues,
H. Thieme,
kango's stein massive,
The Fall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rosa Yemen,
The Index,
Cymande,
Spandau Ballet,
Can,
Symarip,
Mars,
Blancmange,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bad Manners,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Victims,
Fela Kuti,
Pulsallama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ossler,
Minny Pops,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sarah Menescal,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Happenings,
OOIOO,
Lebanon Hanover,
Little Man,
The Kinks,
The Vogues,
K-Klass,
Robert Hood,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Swans,
Wire,
The Dave Clark Five,
T. Rex,
Mantronix,
The Doors,
Morten Harket,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.