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 Paraguay and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 The Moody Blues to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
Reagan Youth,
Khruangbin,
The Smoke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alphaville,
New Age Steppers,
Bill Near,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Danielle Patucci,
Warsaw,
Blancmange,
Trumans Water,
the Germs,
Slave,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Sherman,
Spoonie Gee,
Laurel Aitken,
Stetsasonic,
Deepchord,
Mary Jane Girls,
Basic Channel,
Kenny Larkin,
Zero Boys,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Fuzztones,
World's Most,
Jeff Lynne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Q65,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hasil Adkins,
Tubeway Army,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Vogues,
Los Fastidios,
Duran Duran,
Black Sheep,
The Neon Judgement,
Archie Shepp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cameo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ultravox,
The Seeds,
Aswad,
Slick Rick,
Alice Coltrane,
Todd Terry,
Kaleidoscope,
Faust,
The Moleskins,
Roxette,
The Doors,
The Saints,
Isaac Hayes,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.