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 Russia and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultimate Spinach,
In Retrospect,
Radio Birdman,
Albert Ayler,
Pantaleimon,
Funkadelic,
La Düsseldorf,
Rapeman,
the Association,
China Crisis,
Pierre Henry,
Marmalade,
EPMD,
Scott Walker,
Public Enemy,
Thee Headcoats,
New Order,
Excepter,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Five Americans,
Joe Finger,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
Terrestrial Tones,
Steve Hackett,
Boredoms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Basic Channel,
Max Romeo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camouflage,
John Foxx,
The Human League,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Wyatt,
Gong,
L. Decosne,
Kas Product,
Audionom,
Silicon Teens,
Wolf Eyes,
The Barracudas,
Masters at Work,
Ponytail,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Cale,
The Fire Engines,
Eli Mardock,
Joy Division,
the Slits,
The Residents,
Aural Exciters,
Ohio Players,
Duran Duran,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Patti Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.