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 South Africa and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the dance 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Minor Threat,
Malaria!,
the Soft Cell,
Bauhaus,
Sam Rivers,
Unrelated Segments,
UT,
Inner City,
Bang On A Can,
The Modern Lovers,
Wasted Youth,
The Happenings,
The Move,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Misunderstood,
Ornette Coleman,
Marvin Gaye,
The Blackbyrds,
D'Angelo,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
The New Christs,
Henry Cow,
Eurythmics,
Chris & Cosey,
Jimmy McGriff,
Niagra,
Al Stewart,
The Trojans,
The Gun Club,
Magma,
Hot Snakes,
Circle Jerks,
Monks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Donald Byrd,
Tom Boy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brand Nubian,
Country Joe & The Fish,
10cc,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeff Mills,
Banda Bassotti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blake Baxter,
Pylon,
Alison Limerick,
Steve Hackett,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Evens,
Radio Birdman,
Brothers Johnson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Easy Going,
The Grass Roots,
The Human League,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.