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 Bhutan and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin 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 Saccharine Trust to the techno 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Associates,
The Red Krayola,
Agitation Free,
Echospace,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Drexciya,
Blancmange,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ken Boothe,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Finger,
London Community Gospel Choir,
June Days,
The Names,
ABC,
Joe Smooth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Silicon Teens,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mad Mike,
Cybotron,
Ultravox,
Fear,
Hashim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Searchers,
Marmalade,
Sarah Menescal,
Rakim,
Dawn Penn,
Shuggie Otis,
Patti Smith,
Godley & Creme,
Buzzcocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed,
Angry Samoans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Swans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Henry Cow,
John Coltrane,
The Fuzztones,
The Saints,
Deakin,
Reuben Wilson,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
Prince Buster,
Suicide,
Wings,
Brick,
Oblivians,
Harry Pussy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marvin Gaye,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.