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 Libya and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 the Soft Cell to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Adolescents,
Barbara Tucker,
Don Cherry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
R.M.O.,
The Music Machine,
Judy Mowatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yazoo,
Marmalade,
Joe Finger,
Black Bananas,
Laurel Aitken,
The Leaves,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Modern Lovers,
Camouflage,
New Age Steppers,
Dennis Brown,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barry Ungar,
Procol Harum,
Massinfluence,
The Sound,
The Invisible,
Motorama,
The Dead C,
Lalo Schifrin,
Iggy Pop,
Fela Kuti,
The Grass Roots,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cowsills,
Warsaw,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cheater Slicks,
B.T. Express,
Alphaville,
Dawn Penn,
Drive Like Jehu,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spandau Ballet,
Silicon Teens,
Arab on Radar,
Ponytail,
Hot Snakes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Altered Images,
Faust,
Amazonics,
The Angels of Light,
Magma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.