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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Michael McDonald 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 Au Pairs to the disco 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Symarip,
DNA,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Techniques,
Swans,
the Sonics,
Fela Kuti,
Young Marble Giants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amazonics,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Near,
Blancmange,
Morten Harket,
48th St. Collective,
Henry Cow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Dolphy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blackbyrds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nirvana,
Alison Limerick,
The Names,
Tres Demented,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Skatalites,
Scratch Acid,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fugazi,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-102,
Cybotron,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacques Brel,
Skriet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Black Dice,
X-Ray Spex,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Busters,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Judy Mowatt,
Main Source,
EPMD,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hashim,
Bronski Beat,
Schoolly D,
The Fuzztones,
June Days,
Depeche Mode,
The Doors,
Deadbeat,
Quando Quango,
The New Christs,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.