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 Brazil and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Eli Mardock to the electroclash 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Cameo,
DNA,
Anthony Braxton,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soft Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
Donny Hathaway,
Simply Red,
Throbbing Gristle,
Morten Harket,
Kenny Larkin,
Quando Quango,
Sun Ra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suburban Knight,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crash Course in Science,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Los Fastidios,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül,
Janne Schatter,
The J.B.'s,
The Standells,
Yaz,
The Wake,
the Slits,
Rufus Thomas,
Das Ding,
Cecil Taylor,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Tremeloes,
Funkadelic,
The United States of America,
Wally Richardson,
The Alarm Clocks,
E-Dancer,
Gerry Rafferty,
Andrew Hill,
Ken Boothe,
Delta 5,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dark Day,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Porter Ricks,
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Clear Light,
Smog,
Gregory Isaacs,
Junior Murvin,
R.M.O.,
The Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Pylon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.