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 New Zealand and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alphaville 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
The American Breed,
Zero Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Sam Rivers,
Black Bananas,
The Blackbyrds,
Siglo XX,
The Young Rascals,
The Slackers,
This Heat,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Juan Atkins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thee Headcoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Gong,
10cc,
Con Funk Shun,
Barrington Levy,
Depeche Mode,
Visage,
Average White Band,
The Last Poets,
The Smiths,
Bluetip,
Scrapy,
Erykah Badu,
Arcadia,
Basic Channel,
Eurythmics,
Charles Mingus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Erasure,
Lou Christie,
Black Pus,
Los Fastidios,
The Mojo Men,
Rakim,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pierre Henry,
The Grass Roots,
Faust,
The Leaves,
Symarip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Golliwogs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eric Dolphy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
New Age Steppers,
Hashim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bill Near,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.