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 Tuvalu and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Letta Mbulu to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
Gabor Szabo,
Rufus Thomas,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott Heron,
Archie Shepp,
Slick Rick,
F. McDonald,
Royal Trux,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yellowson,
The Neon Judgement,
Agitation Free,
Kerri Chandler,
a-ha,
Ten City,
Cameo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
R.M.O.,
Subhumans,
Massinfluence,
Kayak,
Sonic Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Juan Atkins,
Zapp,
Peter and Kerry,
The Index,
New Age Steppers,
Goldenarms,
Sun Ra,
Bang On A Can,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Foxx,
B.T. Express,
ABBA,
Eden Ahbez,
Whodini,
Skriet,
Donald Byrd,
Junior Murvin,
the Soft Cell,
Terry Callier,
Ronan,
The Trojans,
Fear,
Kurtis Blow,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wings,
The Slits,
Sister Nancy,
Neu!,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche,
Ponytail,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.