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 Togo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bill Near to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Avey Tare,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drexciya,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June of 44,
Minnie Riperton,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television Personalities,
Al Stewart,
Organ,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Glambeats Corp.,
Suburban Knight,
Livin' Joy,
H. Thieme,
Rotary Connection,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Newcleus,
Girls At Our Best!,
Niagra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Reuben Wilson,
Interpol,
Alison Limerick,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
cv313,
Groovy Waters,
Matthew Bourne,
Ituana,
Boredoms,
Oblivians,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sonic Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aural Exciters,
Franke,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott Heron,
Altered Images,
James White and The Blacks,
Arab on Radar,
Sandy B,
The Durutti Column,
Scientists,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camouflage,
Camberwell Now,
Simply Red,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.