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 Dominica and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Metal Thangz to the grunge 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Accadde A,
Stetsasonic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Newcleus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
CMW,
Youth Brigade,
The Index,
Fluxion,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
FM Einheit,
The Gap Band,
The Fortunes,
Tommy Roe,
Prince Buster,
John Holt,
Amazonics,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
Connie Case,
The Move,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
Grey Daturas,
Quadrant,
The Associates,
Angry Samoans,
Zero Boys,
The Moody Blues,
Eric Copeland,
The Music Machine,
Royal Trux,
Gang Green,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nirvana,
Morten Harket,
Erykah Badu,
Wasted Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Brick,
Q and Not U,
The Cramps,
Aswad,
Rekid,
Silicon Teens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fall,
Rod Modell,
Godley & Creme,
Desert Stars,
Gichy Dan,
ABC,
Mad Mike,
Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rufus Thomas,
Bootsy Collins,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.