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 Nepal and from Shanghai.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Toasters to the techno 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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti 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?
Johnny Clarke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Hood,
Sister Nancy,
Sun City Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Albert Ayler,
Jacob Miller,
Jeff Lynne,
Dead Boys,
DNA,
Spandau Ballet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Graham Central Station,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Byrd,
Joyce Sims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nation of Ulysses,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Smiths,
Lindisfarne,
This Heat,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Holt,
Colin Newman,
Electric Prunes,
Anthony Braxton,
John Coltrane,
Scratch Acid,
Steve Hackett,
The Mummies,
Negative Approach,
Skarface,
The Leaves,
Monks,
Deakin,
Organ,
Ultravox,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed,
Second Layer,
Scion,
48th St. Collective,
OOIOO,
Shoche,
Godley & Creme,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
Faraquet,
Jerry's Kids,
One Last Wish,
10cc,
DJ Style,
Agent Orange,
Robert Wyatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Skatalites,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.