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 Iran and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 the Soft Cell to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Drexciya,
Easy Going,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Mr. Review,
Model 500,
Henry Cow,
Aswad,
Dark Day,
ABBA,
The Mummies,
Gabor Szabo,
KRS-One,
Magazine,
Peter & Gordon,
Joyce Sims,
Moss Icon,
Index,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dave Clark Five,
Andrew Hill,
Gregory Isaacs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ludus,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
Simply Red,
The Invisible,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Association,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
The Star Department,
Surgeon,
Metal Thangz,
Wasted Youth,
Motorama,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monolake,
Gichy Dan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rotary Connection,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Sound,
Siglo XX,
Severed Heads,
DNA,
Derrick May,
Ornette Coleman,
the Swans,
Second Layer,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.