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 Niger and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Buzzcocks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sex Pistols,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hasil Adkins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Albert Ayler,
Pussy Galore,
June of 44,
David Bowie,
Supertramp,
Flash Fearless,
Jeff Lynne,
These Immortal Souls,
Can,
Sister Nancy,
The Skatalites,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mantronix,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Knickerbockers,
Heaven 17,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
a-ha,
Kayak,
The Five Americans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James White and The Blacks,
Minutemen,
Goldenarms,
MC5,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neu!,
Metal Thangz,
Neil Young,
D'Angelo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Circle Jerks,
The Pop Group,
Absolute Body Control,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Kas Product,
Boogie Down Productions,
Surgeon,
Intrusion,
Minny Pops,
Magma,
Porter Ricks,
The Residents,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Invisible,
Nick Fraelich,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Moleskins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fat Boys,
the Human League,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.