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 Guyana and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Donny Hathaway,
Loose Ends,
Sun City Girls,
The Mummies,
Zapp,
Stereo Dub,
Stiv Bators,
Marmalade,
Slick Rick,
Jacques Brel,
Liliput,
Eden Ahbez,
The Angels of Light,
Minutemen,
Banda Bassotti,
Sandy B,
The Gun Club,
Lungfish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
Main Source,
Little Man,
Gabor Szabo,
Can,
Wolf Eyes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brand Nubian,
Eve St. Jones,
Sonic Youth,
Accadde A,
Malaria!,
John Foxx,
Skriet,
kango's stein massive,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Steve Hackett,
Whodini,
Kenny Larkin,
Brothers Johnson,
Dave Gahan,
Motorama,
The Neon Judgement,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soulsonic Force,
CMW,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Parrish,
Soul II Soul,
Marine Girls,
Simply Red,
Royal Trux,
Mark Hollis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Josef K,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.