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 Kuwait and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bologna.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bauhaus to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Archie Shepp,
Theoretical Girls,
Ludus,
Wolf Eyes,
Con Funk Shun,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sugar Minott,
Adolescents,
Yusef Lateef,
The J.B.'s,
The Human League,
The Residents,
10cc,
Pussy Galore,
Delon & Dalcan,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
The Zeros,
H. Thieme,
Von Mondo,
Rekid,
Lyres,
Wire,
Minutemen,
Oneida,
Gabor Szabo,
Judy Mowatt,
The Names,
Popol Vuh,
MC5,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cameo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rod Modell,
Scratch Acid,
48th St. Collective,
Mandrill,
Kayak,
Black Sheep,
Agitation Free,
Roger Hodgson,
Fugazi,
The Electric Prunes,
Sällskapet,
Cybotron,
Steve Hackett,
Colin Newman,
Black Moon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dave Gahan,
The Gories,
Hardrive,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Goldenarms,
James White and The Blacks,
Sarah Menescal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.