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 Vietnam and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flesh Eaters to the electroclash 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Henry Cow,
Mandrill,
Robert Hood,
Lungfish,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gun Club,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harmonia,
John Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Modern Lovers,
The Young Rascals,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
Agitation Free,
Joey Negro,
Easy Going,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare,
the Bar-Kays,
David Axelrod,
Pere Ubu,
Godley & Creme,
Aloha Tigers,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
Marine Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Average White Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Victims,
Joe Finger,
Spoonie Gee,
Reuben Wilson,
The Five Americans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Popol Vuh,
Roger Hodgson,
The Vogues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Heaven 17,
Ice-T,
48th St. Collective,
Kayak,
Schoolly D,
Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fat Boys,
CMW,
New Order,
Alison Limerick,
AZ,
Niagra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blake Baxter,
Ohio Players,
Motorama,
Lalo Schifrin,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.