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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Franke to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
The Toasters,
EPMD,
June Days,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mandrill,
Dawn Penn,
Sun City Girls,
Rotary Connection,
The Fugs,
Mr. Review,
The Shadows of Knight,
Glenn Branca,
Schoolly D,
Grey Daturas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Parry Music,
Peter and Kerry,
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
X-101,
OOIOO,
The Misunderstood,
David Bowie,
Henry Cow,
Freddie Wadling,
The Martian,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Oneida,
the Bar-Kays,
10cc,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Spandau Ballet,
Q and Not U,
Nico,
John Holt,
Surgeon,
Desert Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fire Engines,
Maurizio,
PIL,
Clear Light,
Bobby Womack,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gap Band,
U.S. Maple,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radiopuhelimet,
Susan Cadogan,
Roxy Music,
Agent Orange,
Boz Scaggs,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.