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 Namibia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes 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 Pantaleimon to the grunge 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
June of 44,
Subhumans,
David Bowie,
Ludus,
Mad Mike,
Blake Baxter,
Eddi Front,
Lyres,
Marvin Gaye,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Wells,
Jacques Brel,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Slits,
MC5,
The Barracudas,
Q and Not U,
the Human League,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Searchers,
Rapeman,
The United States of America,
Schoolly D,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kaleidoscope,
Agitation Free,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deepchord,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
The Mojo Men,
Marine Girls,
Silicon Teens,
Desert Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tim Buckley,
Monolake,
Roxette,
The Black Dice,
Smog,
Audionom,
Average White Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Faust,
Sister Nancy,
Lucky Dragons,
Lungfish,
DJ Sneak,
Scientists,
Moby Grape,
Sonny Sharrock,
Althea and Donna,
Suicide,
Gregory Isaacs,
ABBA,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.