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 Benin and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 T.S.O.L. to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Sight & Sound,
Tom Boy,
Minutemen,
The Kinks,
Mo-Dettes,
Scion,
Jacques Brel,
The Dead C,
Funkadelic,
Iggy Pop,
Marmalade,
Juan Atkins,
Country Teasers,
the Sonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
X-Ray Spex,
Sex Pistols,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lungfish,
This Heat,
Sonic Youth,
The Gladiators,
Althea and Donna,
The Stooges,
Flash Fearless,
Lucky Dragons,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ornette Coleman,
Letta Mbulu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Animal Collective,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Real Kids,
Peter and Kerry,
F. McDonald,
Nick Fraelich,
New Age Steppers,
Panda Bear,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Moon,
Kaleidoscope,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Procol Harum,
Chris Corsano,
Minor Threat,
U.S. Maple,
48th St. Collective,
Guru Guru,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Image Ltd.,
B.T. Express,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Lydon,
The Saints,
Dark Day,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.