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 Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Alarm Clocks to the electroclash 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Isaac Hayes,
These Immortal Souls,
The Evens,
X-101,
The New Christs,
Cameo,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Qualms,
New York Dolls,
Aaron Thompson,
Kenny Larkin,
The Techniques,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fela Kuti,
The American Breed,
The Invisible,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blake Baxter,
Brick,
Blossom Toes,
The Buckinghams,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pretty Things,
Bill Wells,
Fluxion,
The Count Five,
Oneida,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joy Division,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
Grey Daturas,
Swell Maps,
Hot Snakes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vainqueur,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Selecter,
Bobby Sherman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gories,
The Beau Brummels,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Banda Bassotti,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alphaville,
Barrington Levy,
Franke,
The Human League,
Drexciya,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.