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 Australia and from Stockholm.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ituana to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Peter & Gordon,
The Zeros,
Wally Richardson,
Ornette Coleman,
Terry Callier,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visage,
Marcia Griffiths,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood,
Gang Starr,
The Beau Brummels,
Pantaleimon,
Harmonia,
X-Ray Spex,
Darondo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masters at Work,
Cal Tjader,
Boz Scaggs,
Ronan,
Marc Almond,
Cluster,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fuzztones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sex Pistols,
Section 25,
Fela Kuti,
Barbara Tucker,
Depeche Mode,
Hardrive,
A Certain Ratio,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry's Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Sheep,
The Monks,
Tim Buckley,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mojo Men,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Malaria!,
Second Layer,
Harry Pussy,
Subhumans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
T. Rex,
Marvin Gaye,
Barrington Levy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Al Stewart,
The Last Poets,
Pole,
June Days,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Red Krayola,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
Kurtis Blow,
AZ,
Sandy B,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.