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 Columbus.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Electric Prunes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
The Smiths,
Audionom,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yaz,
Eurythmics,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flash Fearless,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fela Kuti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deakin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Liliput,
Gabor Szabo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barry Ungar,
Ronan,
Blossom Toes,
The Stooges,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Iggy Pop,
Eve St. Jones,
Cameo,
Scrapy,
Motorama,
the Human League,
Niagra,
Man Parrish,
Cybotron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sam Rivers,
Slave,
Buzzcocks,
Fat Boys,
David Axelrod,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lucky Dragons,
Donald Byrd,
The Selecter,
Black Pus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tubeway Army,
Barbara Tucker,
Prince Buster,
the Bar-Kays,
Saccharine Trust,
Kenny Larkin,
The Grass Roots,
Yellowson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Urselle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.