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 Iraq and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the techno 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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Faust,
Easy Going,
The Monks,
Heaven 17,
The Young Rascals,
Donald Byrd,
Minor Threat,
Royal Trux,
Harry Pussy,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Walker Brothers,
Bauhaus,
Neu!,
Mantronix,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Martian,
Livin' Joy,
Spandau Ballet,
Second Layer,
Robert Wyatt,
Procol Harum,
AZ,
The Stooges,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jerry's Kids,
Liliput,
Lyres,
Johnny Osbourne,
The United States of America,
Ash Ra Tempel,
H. Thieme,
Arcadia,
Pantaleimon,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Wells,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New York Dolls,
Spoonie Gee,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Smog,
Severed Heads,
Section 25,
Cecil Taylor,
The Count Five,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hashim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxette,
The Index,
The Cramps,
The Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.