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 Paraguay and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sound Behaviour to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Boz Scaggs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Moody Blues,
Eurythmics,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Five Americans,
The Slackers,
Jandek,
Supertramp,
B.T. Express,
Symarip,
Con Funk Shun,
Subhumans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soul II Soul,
Harmonia,
Shuggie Otis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Magma,
John Cale,
Glenn Branca,
Scientists,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Radiohead,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Procol Harum,
Yellowson,
Todd Rundgren,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monolake,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brothers Johnson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mo-Dettes,
Royal Trux,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Victims,
The Happenings,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
E-Dancer,
The Gap Band,
Maurizio,
Accadde A,
The Real Kids,
the Swans,
The Angels of Light,
AZ,
Arthur Verocai,
Blake Baxter,
Half Japanese,
Moebius,
Reuben Wilson,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.