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 Chad and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron 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 Livin' Joy to the rap 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Radio Birdman,
Kurtis Blow,
New Order,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eric Copeland,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brothers Johnson,
Toni Rubio,
Alton Ellis,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Grass Roots,
Oneida,
Morten Harket,
Scrapy,
PIL,
Fugazi,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Pretty Things,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Isaac Hayes,
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
Freddie Wadling,
MDC,
Monks,
In Retrospect,
The Sound,
Eurythmics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alison Limerick,
Man Parrish,
Skarface,
Don Cherry,
Dave Gahan,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
The Fuzztones,
The Golliwogs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Interpol,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pulsallama,
Alphaville,
Scott Walker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dark Day,
The Gap Band,
Q and Not U,
Wolf Eyes,
Inner City,
Lalann,
The Trojans,
Severed Heads,
Janne Schatter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dead Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.