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 Japan and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Index to the jazz 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
PIL,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
Jerry's Kids,
Kaleidoscope,
Lower 48,
Camouflage,
Panda Bear,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The United States of America,
Loose Ends,
Minor Threat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skriet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rakim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter & Gordon,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Sheep,
Fad Gadget,
The Mighty Diamonds,
June of 44,
The Last Poets,
The Searchers,
Unwound,
Symarip,
Man Parrish,
Kayak,
Mo-Dettes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soul II Soul,
The Residents,
Blossom Toes,
Pagans,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Quando Quango,
Masters at Work,
Derrick Morgan,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
Janne Schatter,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kas Product,
Cal Tjader,
Amazonics,
John Coltrane,
Rod Modell,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eden Ahbez,
Danielle Patucci,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cowsills,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.