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 Sudan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Barry Ungar to the dance 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Pierre Henry,
Ultra Naté,
The Gories,
Procol Harum,
Arcadia,
Clear Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Divine Comedy,
Joensuu 1685,
Adolescents,
Camouflage,
Rapeman,
Hoover,
The Five Americans,
Sugar Minott,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Searchers,
Wolf Eyes,
The Doors,
Terrestrial Tones,
Masters at Work,
Spandau Ballet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Susan Cadogan,
Niagra,
Bobby Byrd,
Buzzcocks,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
Public Enemy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed,
Terry Callier,
Qualms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dorothy Ashby,
CMW,
Hardrive,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronan,
Idris Muhammad,
the Association,
Nico,
The Cramps,
Lungfish,
Stetsasonic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare,
Quadrant,
The Sound,
Hashim,
Newcleus,
Accadde A,
Kerrie Biddell,
Slick Rick,
Todd Rundgren,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.