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 Antigua and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Germs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Half Japanese,
Marmalade,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alton Ellis,
Sight & Sound,
The Angels of Light,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
K-Klass,
Marcia Griffiths,
Albert Ayler,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nils Olav,
Deepchord,
Aloha Tigers,
Pulsallama,
Cameo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Monks,
Ice-T,
Lower 48,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stetsasonic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oblivians,
Khruangbin,
Easy Going,
The Raincoats,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Remains,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lakeside,
Rakim,
Au Pairs,
Janne Schatter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scion,
the Normal,
Y Pants,
Index,
Camouflage,
H. Thieme,
Grauzone,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Agent Orange,
Essential Logic,
Subhumans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Searchers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Morten Harket,
Negative Approach,
Charles Mingus,
Supertramp,
Althea and Donna,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.