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 Peru and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sixth Finger to the electroclash 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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tears for Fears,
Niagra,
Black Moon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Toni Rubio,
Skriet,
Second Layer,
Altered Images,
Agent Orange,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pole,
the Slits,
The Last Poets,
Judy Mowatt,
June Days,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Steve Hackett,
Black Sheep,
Accadde A,
Popol Vuh,
Bush Tetras,
The Busters,
Delta 5,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cybotron,
T.S.O.L.,
Shuggie Otis,
The Moleskins,
Donald Byrd,
The Happenings,
Cameo,
Dawn Penn,
Laurel Aitken,
Graham Central Station,
Soulsonic Force,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Saints,
Ponytail,
Subhumans,
Cymande,
Gerry Rafferty,
Big Daddy Kane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kas Product,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Reed,
Yusef Lateef,
Deakin,
Soul II Soul,
Los Fastidios,
Donny Hathaway,
Banda Bassotti,
Sarah Menescal,
Newcleus,
Aural Exciters,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.