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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gories to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Josef K,
Ossler,
the Fania All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Pagans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hardrive,
The Walker Brothers,
Television Personalities,
Anakelly,
Average White Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Ralphi Rosario,
Depeche Mode,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grandmaster Flash,
Babytalk,
Godley & Creme,
Barry Ungar,
Sixth Finger,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed,
Blossom Toes,
Ken Boothe,
Max Romeo,
The Residents,
Eric Copeland,
Qualms,
Brothers Johnson,
Dawn Penn,
Fat Boys,
T. Rex,
Alphaville,
Sister Nancy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Funky Four + One,
Maleditus Sound,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül II,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quantec,
The United States of America,
Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
Juan Atkins,
Donald Byrd,
Jacob Miller,
Funkadelic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Searchers,
Mr. Review,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.