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 Iraq 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 John Lydon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Bar-Kays,
Kurtis Blow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra,
K-Klass,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
World's Most,
Funkadelic,
Leonard Cohen,
Tubeway Army,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Livin' Joy,
Isaac Hayes,
Jandek,
Pierre Henry,
B.T. Express,
Crooked Eye,
Max Romeo,
Wasted Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Pere Ubu,
Morten Harket,
The Happenings,
Sällskapet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear,
Eurythmics,
The Zeros,
The Techniques,
Groovy Waters,
Heaven 17,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deakin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wolf Eyes,
Harmonia,
The Doors,
Yellowson,
The Invisible,
Rapeman,
Reagan Youth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cameo,
The Monks,
Ituana,
Lightning Bolt,
The Durutti Column,
Dennis Brown,
Marshall Jefferson,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.