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 East Timor and from Toronto.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Litter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
The Count Five,
One Last Wish,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Normal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Circle Jerks,
Juan Atkins,
Dead Boys,
Swell Maps,
Pantytec,
Althea and Donna,
Icehouse,
kango's stein massive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Martian,
Lungfish,
Barry Ungar,
Suicide,
Glenn Branca,
Newcleus,
Tears for Fears,
Davy DMX,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers,
MC5,
Darondo,
The Dead C,
The Zeros,
The Dave Clark Five,
Patti Smith,
The Monks,
The Fire Engines,
Index,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
FM Einheit,
The Moleskins,
The Gories,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Theoretical Girls,
Talk Talk,
Simply Red,
Can,
Echospace,
Trumans Water,
Man Eating Sloth,
Easy Going,
Sound Behaviour,
The Toasters,
the Sonics,
Brand Nubian,
Tim Buckley,
UT,
Anthony Braxton,
ABBA,
The Victims,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bauhaus,
James White and The Blacks,
Skaos,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.