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 Mali and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Junior Murvin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Idris Muhammad,
Hot Snakes,
Con Funk Shun,
Livin' Joy,
The Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
The Index,
The Invisible,
Anthony Braxton,
Eli Mardock,
Tommy Roe,
The Stooges,
Fad Gadget,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cymande,
Rites of Spring,
Aloha Tigers,
Danielle Patucci,
Fear,
The Monks,
UT,
The Names,
The Young Rascals,
The Leaves,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
June Days,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bush Tetras,
Leonard Cohen,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Albert Ayler,
Rekid,
Letta Mbulu,
Vainqueur,
ABC,
The Dead C,
Sound Behaviour,
Clear Light,
Quando Quango,
Mr. Review,
The Gladiators,
The Fall,
Oneida,
Trumans Water,
The Cramps,
Franke,
The Fortunes,
The Monochrome Set,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Matthew Bourne,
MDC,
Metal Thangz,
Audionom,
Todd Terry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.