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 Marshall Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the dance 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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Piero Umiliani,
These Immortal Souls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scott Walker,
Black Moon,
Siglo XX,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Blackbyrds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joyce Sims,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Erasure,
Bauhaus,
Moebius,
Joe Finger,
Soft Machine,
Ohio Players,
Lyres,
Hardrive,
The Invisible,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Buzzcocks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Desert Stars,
Pantaleimon,
the Human League,
The Buckinghams,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Camberwell Now,
PIL,
ABC,
Drexciya,
Oneida,
Funkadelic,
Tres Demented,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sam Rivers,
Dawn Penn,
Crash Course in Science,
Matthew Bourne,
Lungfish,
Spoonie Gee,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
The Sonics,
Charles Mingus,
the Soft Cell,
DNA,
The Dirtbombs,
Eve St. Jones,
Fad Gadget,
Crispy Ambulance,
Judy Mowatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Black Dice,
Bad Manners,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.