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 Serbia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minutemen to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Busters,
Man Parrish,
Japan,
Joensuu 1685,
the Sonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mummies,
Barbara Tucker,
Underground Resistance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oneida,
Isaac Hayes,
Camouflage,
The Divine Comedy,
the Bar-Kays,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Al Stewart,
Rod Modell,
Skaos,
Deepchord,
One Last Wish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
Rosa Yemen,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fuzztones,
Dual Sessions,
Dark Day,
Shoche,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Parry Music,
Bobby Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swell Maps,
David Axelrod,
Sparks,
Yaz,
ABC,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eli Mardock,
Max Romeo,
Grey Daturas,
Laurel Aitken,
Mad Mike,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Todd Rundgren,
Harmonia,
Public Enemy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Slick Rick,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tears for Fears,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ossler,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.