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 Sudan and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the electroclash 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Section 25,
Stereo Dub,
Eurythmics,
Colin Newman,
Hasil Adkins,
Grey Daturas,
Nils Olav,
Lalann,
Ultra Naté,
Parry Music,
Toni Rubio,
Roxette,
Oneida,
Joe Finger,
Black Flag,
Guru Guru,
Tom Boy,
Cheater Slicks,
the Normal,
The Black Dice,
Sandy B,
The Neon Judgement,
Minutemen,
Little Man,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
Barbara Tucker,
Scrapy,
Ronnie Foster,
EPMD,
La Düsseldorf,
Ice-T,
U.S. Maple,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fuzztones,
Donny Hathaway,
Warsaw,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kerrie Biddell,
Iggy Pop,
Half Japanese,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Godley & Creme,
Rod Modell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
Ituana,
Thee Headcoats,
World's Most,
The Shadows of Knight,
Metal Thangz,
Neu!,
Cluster,
Shuggie Otis,
James White and The Blacks,
Roxy Music,
MC5,
Minny Pops,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.