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 Libya and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Althea and Donna to the disco 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joe Smooth,
Cecil Taylor,
Motorama,
Goldenarms,
the Slits,
Swans,
The Offenders,
Jacques Brel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Circle Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Niagra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grauzone,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oneida,
Cameo,
Accadde A,
The Trojans,
Tears for Fears,
Con Funk Shun,
David McCallum,
Max Romeo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quantec,
The United States of America,
The Blackbyrds,
Bauhaus,
E-Dancer,
David Bowie,
Ludus,
The Pop Group,
Zero Boys,
Henry Cow,
Soul II Soul,
Scan 7,
Andrew Hill,
Tommy Roe,
The Fugs,
a-ha,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerri Chandler,
Y Pants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pylon,
Moss Icon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dave Gahan,
Surgeon,
Liliput,
Severed Heads,
Maleditus Sound,
The Real Kids,
Roger Hodgson,
The Monochrome Set,
Junior Murvin,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.