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 Seychelles and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 the Human League to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Doors,
Roy Ayers,
Susan Cadogan,
Magma,
Lyres,
Dead Boys,
Kurtis Blow,
Animal Collective,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Association,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Standells,
Agent Orange,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
DNA,
The Victims,
Kerri Chandler,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lindisfarne,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
Tomorrow,
New Age Steppers,
Heaven 17,
the Germs,
Tubeway Army,
Echospace,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Sheep,
L. Decosne,
Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
The Cowsills,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
Chris Corsano,
Hot Snakes,
Pagans,
Saccharine Trust,
The Barracudas,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moleskins,
Theoretical Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dead C,
Rapeman,
The Star Department,
Rotary Connection,
The Neon Judgement,
Nils Olav,
Angry Samoans,
Qualms,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delon & Dalcan,
Funky Four + One,
The Alarm Clocks,
Metal Thangz,
Rekid,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jerry's Kids,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.