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 Togo and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 David Bowie 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 Kayak to the jazz 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
The Saints,
Alison Limerick,
Echospace,
Morten Harket,
Alton Ellis,
Lakeside,
The Music Machine,
Peter & Gordon,
Bill Wells,
Guru Guru,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fatback Band,
Wasted Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Cybotron,
Monolake,
This Heat,
Scrapy,
Matthew Bourne,
The Neon Judgement,
Alice Coltrane,
New Order,
Aloha Tigers,
Zapp,
Spoonie Gee,
Silicon Teens,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grey Daturas,
Youth Brigade,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
The Toasters,
Audionom,
Amon Düül,
L. Decosne,
Brick,
John Cale,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aswad,
Joey Negro,
Nick Fraelich,
the Bar-Kays,
Masters at Work,
Rites of Spring,
10cc,
Nils Olav,
PIL,
Sällskapet,
Country Teasers,
Patti Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marine Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
Lyres,
Half Japanese,
Donny Hathaway,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.