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 Guinea-Bissau and from Hong Kong.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Saints,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Erasure,
Skriet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Theoretical Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Sarah Menescal,
MDC,
Livin' Joy,
Eli Mardock,
The Angels of Light,
The Fugs,
Minor Threat,
Al Stewart,
Clear Light,
The Smoke,
Marshall Jefferson,
Youth Brigade,
Mad Mike,
Howard Jones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pylon,
Ice-T,
Audionom,
Johnny Osbourne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jacob Miller,
Soul II Soul,
The Litter,
Joey Negro,
Depeche Mode,
48th St. Collective,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Visage,
Derrick May,
John Lydon,
World's Most,
Roger Hodgson,
Suicide,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ludus,
T. Rex,
Rhythm & Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Morten Harket,
Black Moon,
Junior Murvin,
Dead Boys,
Tomorrow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Charles Mingus,
Organ,
Bobbi Humphrey,
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.