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 Malta and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Robert Görl,
Youth Brigade,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Slits,
Nils Olav,
Glenn Branca,
Skarface,
Eddi Front,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fuzztones,
Vainqueur,
The Techniques,
Zapp,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Porter Ricks,
Cal Tjader,
Connie Case,
The Red Krayola,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doors,
Symarip,
OOIOO,
Average White Band,
The New Christs,
Banda Bassotti,
EPMD,
Skaos,
The Smoke,
ABBA,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mojo Men,
Yellowson,
The Searchers,
Minny Pops,
The Young Rascals,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Index,
Supertramp,
Arab on Radar,
a-ha,
Henry Cow,
Iggy Pop,
Tres Demented,
David McCallum,
The Monochrome Set,
Slave,
Newcleus,
John Coltrane,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MDC,
Dual Sessions,
Mandrill,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Desert Stars,
Loose Ends,
Theoretical Girls,
The Kinks,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.