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 Turkmenistan and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Little Man to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bob Dylan,
the Germs,
Black Sheep,
The Modern Lovers,
Essential Logic,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Clear Light,
Boredoms,
T. Rex,
Tomorrow,
The Tremeloes,
Rapeman,
10cc,
a-ha,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacob Miller,
The Selecter,
Oneida,
Magazine,
Darondo,
Simply Red,
Sonic Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The United States of America,
Gang Green,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heaven 17,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cowsills,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bad Manners,
Silicon Teens,
The Beau Brummels,
Aswad,
Bootsy Collins,
Jeff Lynne,
Davy DMX,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
The Trojans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Symarip,
Talk Talk,
Sun Ra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pantytec,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smiths,
X-Ray Spex,
Ice-T,
Echospace,
The Seeds,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.