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 Ukraine and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 T. Rex to the punk 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Malaria!,
Yellowson,
Joey Negro,
Brand Nubian,
Sixth Finger,
Warren Ellis,
Black Sheep,
John Coltrane,
Flipper,
Shuggie Otis,
The Modern Lovers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Beau Brummels,
Tubeway Army,
Rhythm & Sound,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Iggy Pop,
These Immortal Souls,
Skriet,
June Days,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang Green,
The Leaves,
Michelle Simonal,
Khruangbin,
Nils Olav,
Connie Case,
The Electric Prunes,
Metal Thangz,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Leonard Cohen,
the Soft Cell,
Gastr Del Sol,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barrington Levy,
Fatback Band,
Sparks,
Tears for Fears,
PIL,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ohio Players,
Sam Rivers,
Lower 48,
Beasts of Bourbon,
A Certain Ratio,
Quantec,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bluetip,
Jimmy McGriff,
Alton Ellis,
Funky Four + One,
Main Source,
Moby Grape,
Slave,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.