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 Singapore and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Niagra to the grime 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Nirvana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Womack,
Duran Duran,
Guru Guru,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Charles Mingus,
Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Motorama,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Excepter,
The Index,
Marvin Gaye,
Royal Trux,
Ice-T,
Severed Heads,
Boz Scaggs,
The Martian,
Althea and Donna,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Hill,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alison Limerick,
Nik Kershaw,
Outsiders,
Fatback Band,
The Real Kids,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Coltrane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Erasure,
The Invisible,
Idris Muhammad,
Cybotron,
Josef K,
Albert Ayler,
Depeche Mode,
Lightning Bolt,
Angry Samoans,
Arab on Radar,
Junior Murvin,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
Ronan,
Vladislav Delay,
the Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fear,
Cameo,
Crash Course in Science,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cecil Taylor,
Whodini,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bush Tetras,
Y Pants,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.