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 Mauritius and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer 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 Agitation Free to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Neon Judgement,
Newcleus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pylon,
Cybotron,
Jandek,
The Cramps,
Kool Moe Dee,
Quadrant,
Sugar Minott,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soft Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bronski Beat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Index,
Patti Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Das Ding,
Bobby Sherman,
Popol Vuh,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amazonics,
Glenn Branca,
Grauzone,
La Düsseldorf,
Gong,
The Saints,
Kas Product,
Roxette,
The New Christs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Public Image Ltd.,
X-Ray Spex,
The Remains,
Crooked Eye,
Moby Grape,
Quando Quango,
Dead Boys,
The Buckinghams,
Flash Fearless,
Arcadia,
Peter & Gordon,
Ituana,
Marmalade,
Eurythmics,
Archie Shepp,
Mission of Burma,
Morten Harket,
Inner City,
New York Dolls,
Sixth Finger,
Funkadelic,
Anakelly,
Vladislav Delay,
Stiv Bators,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.