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 Dominican Republic and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 Scott Walker to the grunge 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
June of 44,
Kayak,
Unwound,
Piero Umiliani,
Oblivians,
X-102,
Los Fastidios,
London Community Gospel Choir,
48th St. Collective,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yazoo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Doors,
Bush Tetras,
Wally Richardson,
Public Enemy,
New Age Steppers,
Jacob Miller,
Wasted Youth,
The Busters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Suburban Knight,
Charles Mingus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grey Daturas,
Das Ding,
H. Thieme,
The Selecter,
Jeff Lynne,
The Star Department,
The Gun Club,
Ohio Players,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Underground Resistance,
The Black Dice,
Symarip,
Second Layer,
Stetsasonic,
Al Stewart,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eli Mardock,
T.S.O.L.,
Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
PIL,
Gang Green,
Crash Course in Science,
Vainqueur,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minnie Riperton,
ABBA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Carl Craig,
Boredoms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nils Olav,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.