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 Mexico and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Rapeman 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Barry Ungar,
KRS-One,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Womack,
Quadrant,
L. Decosne,
Banda Bassotti,
Rotary Connection,
The Smoke,
Alice Coltrane,
cv313,
B.T. Express,
The Smiths,
Second Layer,
the Bar-Kays,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Moon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
The Vogues,
Moby Grape,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harmonia,
The Fire Engines,
Reuben Wilson,
Don Cherry,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül,
World's Most,
Rites of Spring,
The Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Excepter,
Arthur Verocai,
The Blues Magoos,
Cameo,
Echospace,
Main Source,
The Pretty Things,
John Coltrane,
Graham Central Station,
K-Klass,
Severed Heads,
The Moody Blues,
Drexciya,
Pierre Henry,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deadbeat,
Man Parrish,
Black Flag,
Parry Music,
Jacob Miller,
Aaron Thompson,
Tubeway Army,
Eric Copeland,
Morten Harket,
Alison Limerick,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.