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 Cameroon and from Woodstock.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lungfish to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Au Pairs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Amazonics,
Black Moon,
Grauzone,
Inner City,
The Velvet Underground,
Minnie Riperton,
Deadbeat,
Das Ding,
Bobby Womack,
The Flesh Eaters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Seeds,
Scrapy,
The Searchers,
Nik Kershaw,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Black Dice,
The Skatalites,
The Index,
Monks,
Heaven 17,
The Victims,
Newcleus,
Chris Corsano,
The Star Department,
Chrome,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brick,
Simply Red,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Glenn Branca,
The Dead C,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Los Fastidios,
The Litter,
The Gun Club,
Aural Exciters,
Stetsasonic,
Sonic Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Selecter,
The Mojo Men,
Rapeman,
Gichy Dan,
The Motions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Idris Muhammad,
Ronnie Foster,
Pet Shop Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rufus Thomas,
Goldenarms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Accadde A,
This Heat,
Angry Samoans,
The Red Krayola,
John Holt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.