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 Brazil 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Young Marble Giants to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
The Buckinghams,
Swans,
John Lydon,
Arthur Verocai,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lakeside,
Bobby Womack,
Joe Smooth,
Pantaleimon,
Wasted Youth,
The Mummies,
The Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faraquet,
Niagra,
Black Pus,
Faust,
Byron Stingily,
Flash Fearless,
Steve Hackett,
Peter & Gordon,
Wings,
Absolute Body Control,
Michelle Simonal,
The Red Krayola,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monks,
Hashim,
June of 44,
The Gladiators,
Aswad,
Nils Olav,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Howard Jones,
The Count Five,
the Swans,
Essential Logic,
Lou Christie,
The Residents,
U.S. Maple,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Procol Harum,
Saccharine Trust,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moebius,
Ornette Coleman,
Scion,
AZ,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Silicon Teens,
Carl Craig,
Inner City,
Ponytail,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.