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 Congo and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the jazz 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Lou Christie,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson,
In Retrospect,
Underground Resistance,
Inner City,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amon Düül,
Malaria!,
Black Pus,
Peter & Gordon,
Circle Jerks,
Adolescents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rapeman,
Marine Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Swell Maps,
Todd Terry,
Mandrill,
Crime,
Kenny Larkin,
Cecil Taylor,
Joey Negro,
The Wake,
Mary Jane Girls,
T. Rex,
Pulsallama,
Average White Band,
Fugazi,
Ultravox,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blake Baxter,
Camouflage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rosa Yemen,
Brass Construction,
Erasure,
Stetsasonic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deadbeat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Whodini,
the Association,
Howard Jones,
Radio Birdman,
The Dead C,
Ultra Naté,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lucky Dragons,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Reagan Youth,
The Victims,
Traffic Nightmare,
Danielle Patucci,
Babytalk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Delta 5,
The Fall,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.