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 Seychelles and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
The Beau Brummels,
Severed Heads,
The Monochrome Set,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nick Fraelich,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
Porter Ricks,
The Dave Clark Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cameo,
Mo-Dettes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Mills,
Simply Red,
Neil Young,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brand Nubian,
Magma,
Albert Ayler,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Sonics,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter and Kerry,
The Mummies,
Rufus Thomas,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fat Boys,
Niagra,
Jerry's Kids,
The Happenings,
The Fuzztones,
Eve St. Jones,
Nas,
Alton Ellis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
B.T. Express,
Hoover,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Johnny Clarke,
Letta Mbulu,
Yellowson,
Tom Boy,
Ponytail,
Blancmange,
Quando Quango,
Silicon Teens,
Hasil Adkins,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fall,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.