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 Estonia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Flash Fearless to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Babytalk,
This Heat,
10cc,
Outsiders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mo-Dettes,
The Invisible,
Fugazi,
In Retrospect,
The Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swans,
Neil Young,
Magazine,
Nirvana,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crooked Eye,
the Slits,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Whodini,
Sarah Menescal,
Oneida,
Royal Trux,
Soft Cell,
Parry Music,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Sherman,
Junior Murvin,
Fluxion,
Sugar Minott,
The Golliwogs,
The J.B.'s,
Au Pairs,
Massinfluence,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bauhaus,
Rekid,
Crash Course in Science,
the Sonics,
Angry Samoans,
Hashim,
Urselle,
Sonic Youth,
Nico,
8 Eyed Spy,
Prince Buster,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Soft Cell,
New Order,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Skatalites,
Reuben Wilson,
Loose Ends,
Boredoms,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.