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 Korea South and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the funk 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Zapp,
Dual Sessions,
Oneida,
June of 44,
Sixth Finger,
Harpers Bizarre,
Unrelated Segments,
Mantronix,
Fluxion,
Ronan,
T. Rex,
Au Pairs,
Scrapy,
Eddi Front,
Bang On A Can,
Prince Buster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scratch Acid,
Model 500,
Faraquet,
Fugazi,
Young Marble Giants,
EPMD,
These Immortal Souls,
Sonic Youth,
Sound Behaviour,
The Victims,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quadrant,
Brand Nubian,
Juan Atkins,
the Normal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Pus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tommy Roe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Searchers,
Darondo,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Starr,
Peter & Gordon,
The Pop Group,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rapeman,
Magazine,
Black Moon,
Porter Ricks,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
The Velvet Underground,
Arab on Radar,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aswad,
Joe Smooth,
Lower 48,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.