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 Lesotho and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fall to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Donald Byrd,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Zapp,
The Dead C,
Lucky Dragons,
Amon Düül II,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Byron Stingily,
Dark Day,
The Modern Lovers,
June of 44,
The Birthday Party,
Barry Ungar,
Unrelated Segments,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grauzone,
Roger Hodgson,
Sällskapet,
June Days,
Nico,
Dual Sessions,
Buzzcocks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Star Department,
Outsiders,
Hasil Adkins,
Mantronix,
Donny Hathaway,
Ten City,
Mark Hollis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fatback Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Rites of Spring,
Ponytail,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tubeway Army,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rapeman,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Massinfluence,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mr. Review,
Brothers Johnson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deepchord,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wolf Eyes,
Scott Walker,
Average White Band,
Blake Baxter,
These Immortal Souls,
Aloha Tigers,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.