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 Papua New Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Joyce Sims to the dance 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Joe Finger,
Dawn Penn,
The Fugs,
The Victims,
Supertramp,
Severed Heads,
Man Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Morten Harket,
Mandrill,
Brick,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tubeway Army,
The Human League,
Brand Nubian,
The Misunderstood,
David Axelrod,
The Young Rascals,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lee Hazlewood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erykah Badu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Derrick May,
Rakim,
Sun Ra,
Soulsonic Force,
Motorama,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Bar-Kays,
DNA,
Skaos,
John Foxx,
New York Dolls,
Black Flag,
Tomorrow,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bluetip,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yellowson,
Steve Hackett,
Duran Duran,
Crime,
Sight & Sound,
Suicide,
Swell Maps,
Aloha Tigers,
Susan Cadogan,
Clear Light,
Moby Grape,
Panda Bear,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stiv Bators,
The Gap Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Niagra,
Smog,
Tom Boy,
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.