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 Algeria and from London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bad Manners to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
E-Dancer,
Pantytec,
Barclay James Harvest,
48th St. Collective,
David Bowie,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott Heron,
OOIOO,
Circle Jerks,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Pus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ice-T,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-102,
Desert Stars,
Brand Nubian,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gabor Szabo,
Dennis Brown,
FM Einheit,
The Move,
The Knickerbockers,
Fear,
The Moleskins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quando Quango,
Nils Olav,
Cheater Slicks,
DJ Sneak,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Trumans Water,
Tommy Roe,
Talk Talk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lucky Dragons,
The Mojo Men,
Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Halsall,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June Days,
The Neon Judgement,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Connie Case,
Crash Course in Science,
Country Teasers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Motions,
Bill Near,
Erasure,
The Beau Brummels,
A Certain Ratio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.