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 Marshall Islands and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the electroclash 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
a-ha,
Janne Schatter,
10cc,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
Model 500,
Sparks,
Lou Reed,
Iggy Pop,
Fat Boys,
The Evens,
Trumans Water,
Todd Rundgren,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fatback Band,
Infiniti,
The Golliwogs,
Erasure,
The Monks,
Organ,
Minor Threat,
This Heat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eli Mardock,
The Gap Band,
The Gladiators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Whodini,
Von Mondo,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Hood,
the Human League,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Soft Cell,
The Cowsills,
Funky Four + One,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Smog,
The Martian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rapeman,
Young Marble Giants,
The American Breed,
Flash Fearless,
Ice-T,
The Slackers,
Ossler,
Alphaville,
Simply Red,
Nirvana,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Liliput,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fugs,
Public Enemy,
Brand Nubian,
Junior Murvin,
Scientists,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.