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 Honduras and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Altered Images to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Pere Ubu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wings,
The Red Krayola,
E-Dancer,
Kurtis Blow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fugazi,
Hashim,
Bill Wells,
Nick Fraelich,
Country Teasers,
Blancmange,
the Normal,
Black Flag,
The Raincoats,
Television Personalities,
Underground Resistance,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ponytail,
Black Moon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nirvana,
The Shadows of Knight,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
PIL,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
U.S. Maple,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Silicon Teens,
Gang of Four,
Swell Maps,
Maurizio,
D'Angelo,
Shoche,
Sun Ra,
The Slackers,
Metal Thangz,
48th St. Collective,
Black Sheep,
Theoretical Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dawn Penn,
The Pretty Things,
Godley & Creme,
Terry Callier,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pet Shop Boys,
David McCallum,
The Kinks,
Roxette,
Laurel Aitken,
The Trojans,
Max Romeo,
Cal Tjader,
The Fugs,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.