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 San Marino and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes 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 Radio Birdman to the punk 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible 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?
Jandek,
Brand Nubian,
The Smiths,
The Last Poets,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
Spoonie Gee,
John Foxx,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Womack,
Depeche Mode,
Vainqueur,
Yusef Lateef,
Ken Boothe,
Erasure,
Joe Finger,
Dawn Penn,
Andrew Hill,
Stetsasonic,
The Real Kids,
The Moody Blues,
Marc Almond,
Prince Buster,
The Cure,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nico,
Pierre Henry,
Laurel Aitken,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
The Shadows of Knight,
Maurizio,
Half Japanese,
Cybotron,
Aloha Tigers,
Nirvana,
Marine Girls,
Main Source,
Man Eating Sloth,
Talk Talk,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Starr,
Underground Resistance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scratch Acid,
Panda Bear,
Blossom Toes,
The Litter,
Chrome,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Slick Rick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Josef K,
Avey Tare,
The United States of America,
Qualms,
X-102,
Bobby Byrd,
Sun City Girls,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.