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 Switzerland and from New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ 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 Kool Moe Dee to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Carl Craig,
The Count Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thompson Twins,
Roxy Music,
The Dave Clark Five,
Darondo,
Mark Hollis,
The Skatalites,
The Kinks,
The Angels of Light,
The Motions,
Brothers Johnson,
Scan 7,
Black Flag,
Royal Trux,
Procol Harum,
Lebanon Hanover,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Buckinghams,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Franke,
the Normal,
Isaac Hayes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rakim,
the Human League,
Groovy Waters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pantytec,
The Misunderstood,
The Sound,
Fela Kuti,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Johnny Osbourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kurtis Blow,
Metal Thangz,
Spoonie Gee,
The Techniques,
The Blues Magoos,
Lalann,
Public Enemy,
Surgeon,
The Zeros,
Marcia Griffiths,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Circle Jerks,
Delta 5,
Funkadelic,
PIL,
The Last Poets,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eric Copeland,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
48th St. Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.