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 Namibia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer 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 Marvin Gaye to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David McCallum,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gerry Rafferty,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marc Almond,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kerri Chandler,
The Selecter,
Slick Rick,
Charles Mingus,
The Motions,
Sound Behaviour,
Terrestrial Tones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The American Breed,
Massinfluence,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kenny Larkin,
This Heat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pussy Galore,
The Beau Brummels,
Circle Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Swans,
Von Mondo,
Echospace,
Darondo,
JFA,
DNA,
Roy Ayers,
Sex Pistols,
FM Einheit,
Talk Talk,
Henry Cow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gap Band,
Sandy B,
Moss Icon,
One Last Wish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harmonia,
Radio Birdman,
Jandek,
Erykah Badu,
The Gories,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Susan Cadogan,
Alphaville,
Suicide,
Blancmange,
June Days,
Joe Finger,
Chrome,
Cybotron,
Joey Negro,
The Smoke,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.