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 Lithuania and from Accra.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 United States of America to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Kaleidoscope,
The Vogues,
Q and Not U,
Soft Machine,
Dawn Penn,
Guru Guru,
Duran Duran,
New York Dolls,
The Saints,
New Order,
Organ,
Moby Grape,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Hood,
Rotary Connection,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pulsallama,
Fear,
Jimmy McGriff,
Michelle Simonal,
Sugar Minott,
June of 44,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
The Pretty Things,
The Searchers,
Agent Orange,
Inner City,
Panda Bear,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cowsills,
Andrew Hill,
Patti Smith,
Moss Icon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ludus,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacob Miller,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Neil Young,
Sonic Youth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Real Kids,
Bang On A Can,
The Fire Engines,
Funky Four + One,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brick,
Steve Hackett,
Cameo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Remains,
Kerrie Biddell,
a-ha,
Tears for Fears,
Marmalade,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.