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 Tuvalu and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grey Daturas,
PIL,
Absolute Body Control,
Alphaville,
Al Stewart,
Warren Ellis,
Ludus,
Nico,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tomorrow,
The Count Five,
Althea and Donna,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare,
Crime,
Sandy B,
Public Image Ltd.,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Suburban Knight,
Janne Schatter,
The Young Rascals,
Joy Division,
Malaria!,
Pet Shop Boys,
Patti Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Talk Talk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Johnny Osbourne,
10cc,
Mantronix,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mad Mike,
The New Christs,
The Litter,
Banda Bassotti,
Smog,
Fat Boys,
UT,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
B.T. Express,
X-102,
Marine Girls,
The Move,
Robert Wyatt,
The Toasters,
Joey Negro,
AZ,
EPMD,
Maleditus Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
June of 44,
Joe Smooth,
Dave Gahan,
Royal Trux,
Brothers Johnson,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.