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 China and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Red Krayola to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
The Fuzztones,
Suburban Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
Eli Mardock,
Con Funk Shun,
Agent Orange,
Sun Ra,
The Music Machine,
Supertramp,
OOIOO,
Kerri Chandler,
Amon Düül,
Lindisfarne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Clear Light,
Quantec,
Dead Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Pus,
The Toasters,
Marvin Gaye,
Todd Rundgren,
Ludus,
L. Decosne,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Hutcherson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter & Gordon,
Sam Rivers,
Jacob Miller,
Swell Maps,
Pulsallama,
The Sonics,
Schoolly D,
Whodini,
Kaleidoscope,
Main Source,
The Gun Club,
Steve Hackett,
Guru Guru,
Bluetip,
Rekid,
Qualms,
Pole,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brick,
The Slits,
The Blackbyrds,
Panda Bear,
Gang Green,
Popol Vuh,
K-Klass,
Junior Murvin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neu!,
Agitation Free,
Nik Kershaw,
The Kinks,
Peter and Kerry,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.