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 Bangladesh and from Lille.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Delta 5 to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Flipper,
The New Christs,
Marmalade,
H. Thieme,
Circle Jerks,
Mandrill,
the Sonics,
The American Breed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sonics,
a-ha,
The Happenings,
Danielle Patucci,
The J.B.'s,
The Trojans,
China Crisis,
Laurel Aitken,
Wasted Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arcadia,
Suburban Knight,
Grauzone,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boz Scaggs,
Eden Ahbez,
The Modern Lovers,
The Selecter,
Easy Going,
ABBA,
The Invisible,
D'Angelo,
The Seeds,
Faraquet,
Severed Heads,
Iggy Pop,
Nico,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joe Finger,
The Vogues,
Niagra,
X-Ray Spex,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Zapp,
The Skatalites,
James White and The Blacks,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Hood,
Bill Near,
Fela Kuti,
Sound Behaviour,
Glambeats Corp.,
DJ Sneak,
The Angels of Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Henry Cow,
Yellowson,
Juan Atkins,
The Monochrome Set,
Unrelated Segments,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.