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 Cuba and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 harpsichord 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 June Days to the disco 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Max Romeo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Smoke,
Brass Construction,
Agent Orange,
Stereo Dub,
Ultravox,
Niagra,
Gabor Szabo,
Albert Ayler,
The Zeros,
John Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Sandy B,
Urselle,
Electric Prunes,
Lyres,
Quadrant,
Vladislav Delay,
Bush Tetras,
Mark Hollis,
Moby Grape,
kango's stein massive,
Underground Resistance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lower 48,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Circle Jerks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Grass Roots,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mummies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Real Kids,
Black Pus,
Hot Snakes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skarface,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Tremeloes,
R.M.O.,
The Sound,
Robert Hood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ornette Coleman,
Arcadia,
Ossler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
Wolf Eyes,
Youth Brigade,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skriet,
Sex Pistols,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fluxion,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.