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 Seychelles and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 ABC to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Second Layer,
Pantaleimon,
Mars,
Camouflage,
The Cramps,
The Moleskins,
Bootsy Collins,
Ice-T,
Colin Newman,
Blake Baxter,
Jeff Mills,
Faust,
Symarip,
Eurythmics,
Suicide,
Zero Boys,
The Smoke,
One Last Wish,
The Last Poets,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Motorama,
Sight & Sound,
Trumans Water,
Joensuu 1685,
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu,
The Doors,
Roger Hodgson,
the Bar-Kays,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soulsonic Force,
Crime,
The Cure,
Black Flag,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Martian,
Franke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smiths,
The Remains,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aloha Tigers,
T.S.O.L.,
Hoover,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
EPMD,
Organ,
Nas,
Lakeside,
The Young Rascals,
David Axelrod,
Lou Christie,
David McCallum,
John Cale,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.