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 Swaziland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
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 organ 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
D'Angelo,
John Lydon,
B.T. Express,
Juan Atkins,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Germs,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alison Limerick,
Monolake,
Supertramp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Invisible,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Das Ding,
Icehouse,
MDC,
Ultra Naté,
Flipper,
Hot Snakes,
Audionom,
Excepter,
Intrusion,
Rapeman,
Althea and Donna,
The Names,
Altered Images,
10cc,
Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
Cymande,
Blake Baxter,
CMW,
Junior Murvin,
Amon Düül II,
The United States of America,
cv313,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Young Rascals,
Minor Threat,
The Cowsills,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fugazi,
Public Enemy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Massinfluence,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Grass Roots,
Lucky Dragons,
Amon Düül,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
Sun City Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Tubeway Army,
Eddi Front,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.