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 Equatorial Guinea and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 David Bowie 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 Evens to the crunk 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
The Fuzztones,
Mr. Review,
the Normal,
Gong,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hardrive,
Altered Images,
The Red Krayola,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stiv Bators,
Essential Logic,
Sparks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Fugazi,
The Gap Band,
Rotary Connection,
Al Stewart,
Q65,
Con Funk Shun,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fall,
Davy DMX,
The Sonics,
Animal Collective,
Patti Smith,
Neu!,
Andrew Hill,
Moss Icon,
New York Dolls,
Blancmange,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-102,
The Mojo Men,
The Count Five,
Massinfluence,
The Residents,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
David Bowie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The American Breed,
Cymande,
kango's stein massive,
Don Cherry,
Judy Mowatt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Connie Case,
Bronski Beat,
Alton Ellis,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
Man Parrish,
Oneida,
Sugar Minott,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.