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 Rwanda and from Lyon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Marc Almond to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Depeche Mode,
Royal Trux,
The Gap Band,
Howard Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
Aaron Thompson,
Laurel Aitken,
Grandmaster Flash,
Newcleus,
Grey Daturas,
Black Pus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scratch Acid,
The Fall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
EPMD,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nils Olav,
Barry Ungar,
L. Decosne,
Ten City,
The Young Rascals,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Pop Group,
Electric Prunes,
Archie Shepp,
Joyce Sims,
Duran Duran,
Crime,
The Index,
T. Rex,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quantec,
Black Bananas,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smiths,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
Fugazi,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The United States of America,
The Golliwogs,
Con Funk Shun,
R.M.O.,
Lyres,
the Association,
AZ,
The Walker Brothers,
the Germs,
Pylon,
Donald Byrd,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Slackers,
The Gladiators,
Kenny Larkin,
Slick Rick,
The Stooges,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.