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 Equatorial Guinea and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Mo-Dettes to the rock 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Sherman,
Intrusion,
Surgeon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Victims,
Lightning Bolt,
Agitation Free,
Chrome,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
Joyce Sims,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Music Machine,
Tres Demented,
The Toasters,
The Seeds,
X-102,
Man Parrish,
Subhumans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Porter Ricks,
CMW,
Erykah Badu,
Mary Jane Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lower 48,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Moss Icon,
Alison Limerick,
Index,
The Cure,
Lyres,
Schoolly D,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kenny Larkin,
Make Up,
Absolute Body Control,
The Doors,
Skarface,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pagans,
Whodini,
Roxette,
Wings,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Unwound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Anakelly,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barry Ungar,
Scratch Acid,
The Smiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Half Japanese,
Public Enemy,
Rapeman,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sam Rivers,
Japan,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.