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 Spain and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Cal Tjader to the punk 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
ABC,
Joyce Sims,
Skarface,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter and Kerry,
Crash Course in Science,
The Barracudas,
The Saints,
The Litter,
Bauhaus,
Accadde A,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cameo,
Animal Collective,
Desert Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Smooth,
Thee Headcoats,
Howard Jones,
X-102,
The Happenings,
Bobby Womack,
Adolescents,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Andrew Hill,
Curtis Mayfield,
48th St. Collective,
Zapp,
Lucky Dragons,
KRS-One,
Crooked Eye,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fortunes,
The Trojans,
the Slits,
Ronan,
The Standells,
Index,
Brothers Johnson,
John Holt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ossler,
B.T. Express,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
Joy Division,
Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
June of 44,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.