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 Turkey and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare 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 Blossom Toes 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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
New York Dolls,
Gang Starr,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wolf Eyes,
The Last Poets,
the Swans,
Adolescents,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Modern Lovers,
Monks,
Fluxion,
Erasure,
The Human League,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Motions,
LL Cool J,
The Mojo Men,
the Germs,
Pussy Galore,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Warren Ellis,
The Pop Group,
Scrapy,
MC5,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharoah Sanders,
Maleditus Sound,
The Kinks,
The Cowsills,
Magma,
Duran Duran,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter & Gordon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Donald Byrd,
Kayak,
The Durutti Column,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The J.B.'s,
The Neon Judgement,
Zero Boys,
The Trojans,
Section 25,
Dual Sessions,
Wings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Smog,
Q and Not U,
Wally Richardson,
Tom Boy,
The Evens,
Yellowson,
a-ha,
Michelle Simonal,
The Stooges,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Charles Mingus,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.