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 Argentina and from Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Gabor Szabo to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minny Pops,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Groovy Waters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jesper Dahlback,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nas,
The Real Kids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jandek,
Robert Wyatt,
X-101,
Depeche Mode,
Cal Tjader,
Niagra,
Ossler,
Tres Demented,
Moss Icon,
Can,
Isaac Hayes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Duran Duran,
Eve St. Jones,
Alphaville,
Patti Smith,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
The Martian,
Accadde A,
Boz Scaggs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Offenders,
Dave Gahan,
ABBA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Newcleus,
Neil Young,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Radio Birdman,
Make Up,
Vladislav Delay,
Ludus,
Agitation Free,
Pharoah Sanders,
Section 25,
Das Ding,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Bourne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Erasure,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sonic Youth,
Moby Grape,
Adolescents,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.