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 Costa Rica and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Camouflage to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alphaville,
Nick Fraelich,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sexual Harrassment,
H. Thieme,
Sällskapet,
This Heat,
Interpol,
The Shadows of Knight,
R.M.O.,
The Wake,
Cameo,
Cal Tjader,
Byron Stingily,
Fela Kuti,
Charles Mingus,
Second Layer,
Mad Mike,
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra,
Index,
Absolute Body Control,
Nils Olav,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sight & Sound,
The Stooges,
Bill Near,
KRS-One,
Matthew Halsall,
Rites of Spring,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Real Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
The New Christs,
Mark Hollis,
The Cowsills,
Joe Smooth,
Joyce Sims,
Sonic Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kayak,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hardrive,
Whodini,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
World's Most,
Liliput,
Marine Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roxy Music,
Lindisfarne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Star Department,
Brothers Johnson,
Zero Boys,
the Soft Cell,
The Dead C,
Agitation Free,
Pantaleimon,
Nirvana,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.