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 Switzerland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 chamberlin 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 Blossom Toes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Moebius,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pagans,
Nik Kershaw,
Darondo,
Angry Samoans,
Black Moon,
Davy DMX,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Lydon,
Tubeway Army,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Y Pants,
Sandy B,
Suburban Knight,
Brick,
Lower 48,
Ossler,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Max Romeo,
The Red Krayola,
Mad Mike,
Model 500,
Robert Görl,
Janne Schatter,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Toasters,
Bill Near,
The Victims,
Slave,
Thompson Twins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deadbeat,
Black Pus,
Maleditus Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABBA,
Flipper,
FM Einheit,
Popol Vuh,
Marcia Griffiths,
Zapp,
Gang of Four,
Gregory Isaacs,
Audionom,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neil Young,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Maurizio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spoonie Gee,
Dead Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Faust,
Negative Approach,
Suicide,
The Misunderstood,
Matthew Bourne,
Brand Nubian,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.