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 Samoa and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 The Modern Lovers to the grime 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Kayak,
Darondo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lebanon Hanover,
Todd Rundgren,
Al Stewart,
Scion,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deepchord,
Minor Threat,
Liliput,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dave Clark Five,
Janne Schatter,
Reagan Youth,
Basic Channel,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Eden Ahbez,
Masters at Work,
Easy Going,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spoonie Gee,
Depeche Mode,
The Monks,
The Zeros,
The Modern Lovers,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David Bowie,
The Fuzztones,
Roger Hodgson,
Shoche,
Mark Hollis,
The Neon Judgement,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Remains,
The Sound,
Marmalade,
The Dirtbombs,
David Axelrod,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Oblivians,
B.T. Express,
The Leaves,
Marc Almond,
Neu!,
Neil Young,
Isaac Hayes,
Whodini,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
James White and The Blacks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Beau Brummels,
Guru Guru,
Tomorrow,
T. Rex,
Camberwell Now,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.