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 Uganda 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sarah Menescal to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
Jeff Lynne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
Connie Case,
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
Make Up,
Lou Reed,
Rakim,
Brick,
Alice Coltrane,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Trojans,
Second Layer,
Rekid,
Sonic Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Oneida,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scientists,
Lungfish,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Slackers,
Fluxion,
Dawn Penn,
Con Funk Shun,
Camouflage,
Fat Boys,
Eurythmics,
Pantaleimon,
Ken Boothe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Modern Lovers,
Tom Boy,
Amazonics,
Basic Channel,
Q65,
Agitation Free,
Be Bop Deluxe,
cv313,
PIL,
Lakeside,
Black Flag,
Mad Mike,
Chris Corsano,
the Human League,
Half Japanese,
Cheater Slicks,
Scrapy,
Minny Pops,
Funkadelic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.