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 Kosovo and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Offenders to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
The Monks,
Derrick Morgan,
Saccharine Trust,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Quando Quango,
Black Sheep,
Guru Guru,
The Raincoats,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Lindisfarne,
Banda Bassotti,
Warsaw,
The Modern Lovers,
Drexciya,
Cameo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mummies,
Camberwell Now,
The Saints,
Susan Cadogan,
Basic Channel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pulsallama,
The Skatalites,
EPMD,
Todd Rundgren,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wolf Eyes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Monolake,
Inner City,
Bill Near,
Isaac Hayes,
Pole,
Flipper,
Khruangbin,
One Last Wish,
Wings,
Roxy Music,
Angry Samoans,
Donny Hathaway,
ABBA,
Joey Negro,
Henry Cow,
Wasted Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Human League,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cymande,
Suicide,
Sam Rivers,
John Holt,
Erykah Badu,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.