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 Pakistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Stereo Dub to the techno 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Sex Pistols,
John Cale,
Von Mondo,
Eddi Front,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Music Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Bang On A Can,
The Doors,
Peter and Kerry,
Motorama,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aswad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Monks,
Agent Orange,
Gang Green,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Lydon,
Hot Snakes,
Cecil Taylor,
Urselle,
Depeche Mode,
Sun Ra,
Con Funk Shun,
Pussy Galore,
Suburban Knight,
Zapp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Happenings,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tears for Fears,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rapeman,
Radiopuhelimet,
PIL,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Star Department,
Avey Tare,
Bronski Beat,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers,
Swans,
Rakim,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Flag,
Colin Newman,
kango's stein massive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Searchers,
Bobby Sherman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Flamin' Groovies,
OOIOO,
In Retrospect,
Dennis Brown,
Malaria!,
Mad Mike,
Matthew Bourne,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Soft Cell,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.