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 Madagascar and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Velvet Underground to the disco 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Lou Christie,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Radio Birdman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Skaos,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers,
the Bar-Kays,
Intrusion,
X-Ray Spex,
Pussy Galore,
AZ,
Aural Exciters,
Kenny Larkin,
Yaz,
The Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harmonia,
Surgeon,
Motorama,
The Birthday Party,
Gregory Isaacs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Motions,
Kurtis Blow,
Television,
Bobby Sherman,
the Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
Ornette Coleman,
Grauzone,
D'Angelo,
Q65,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
This Heat,
kango's stein massive,
Fad Gadget,
Andrew Hill,
New Age Steppers,
Parry Music,
The Leaves,
PIL,
Ossler,
The Residents,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bush Tetras,
Piero Umiliani,
Quando Quango,
Ituana,
Wire,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.