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 North and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rod Modell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deakin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
10cc,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Human League,
Anakelly,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Al Stewart,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
These Immortal Souls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Knickerbockers,
The Residents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Sonics,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Wells,
Shuggie Otis,
Ohio Players,
Dark Day,
The Modern Lovers,
Todd Rundgren,
Depeche Mode,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Mills,
Sex Pistols,
The American Breed,
Joe Finger,
Sun Ra,
The Durutti Column,
Oneida,
The Smoke,
Albert Ayler,
Jacques Brel,
The Count Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Toni Rubio,
The Gun Club,
Black Flag,
Grey Daturas,
Cameo,
Model 500,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Clear Light,
Cybotron,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Monks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Move,
Television Personalities,
Masters at Work,
The Sonics,
Camberwell Now,
Eric B and Rakim,
Japan,
Amon Düül,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.