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 Suriname and from London.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Arthur Verocai to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Letta Mbulu,
New Age Steppers,
Fad Gadget,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eve St. Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Star Department,
Aural Exciters,
The Pop Group,
Soft Cell,
Ludus,
Banda Bassotti,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Lynne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roy Ayers,
Inner City,
Infiniti,
Livin' Joy,
Delta 5,
The Cure,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pierre Henry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lyres,
Nik Kershaw,
Cluster,
MDC,
Hasil Adkins,
Andrew Hill,
Laurel Aitken,
Scion,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish,
Loose Ends,
The Blues Magoos,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Japan,
Tim Buckley,
Suicide,
Fluxion,
U.S. Maple,
Mo-Dettes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amon Düül II,
The Index,
Ralphi Rosario,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
The Real Kids,
Pussy Galore,
Max Romeo,
The Saints,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.