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 Ireland and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Skriet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roxette,
Clear Light,
Kerrie Biddell,
Von Mondo,
Bush Tetras,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Q65,
Deadbeat,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Buzzcocks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gichy Dan,
Babytalk,
The Doobie Brothers,
Section 25,
John Holt,
Niagra,
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Flag,
Subhumans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New York Dolls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sam Rivers,
The Residents,
Derrick May,
Organ,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Absolute Body Control,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ornette Coleman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang Starr,
Barrington Levy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Moon,
The Leaves,
Bronski Beat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
Cheater Slicks,
Bob Dylan,
Reuben Wilson,
Carl Craig,
Fad Gadget,
Wolf Eyes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.