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 Chile and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 Half Japanese to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Iggy Pop,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pantytec,
Prince Buster,
Agent Orange,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fat Boys,
Symarip,
The Walker Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
Donald Byrd,
Ponytail,
Clear Light,
Mantronix,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Star Department,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Christie,
Brand Nubian,
Lower 48,
Ten City,
The Techniques,
Gang Green,
John Cale,
Tomorrow,
Tubeway Army,
Bronski Beat,
Sugar Minott,
Nirvana,
EPMD,
Visage,
The Five Americans,
The Fall,
Swell Maps,
Niagra,
Malaria!,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slits,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jacob Miller,
Au Pairs,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
Zero Boys,
John Holt,
The Saints,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alison Limerick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Selecter,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skaos,
Ornette Coleman,
Urselle,
Shuggie Otis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Average White Band,
Altered Images,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.