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 Dominica and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 PIL to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Parry Music,
Curtis Mayfield,
Toni Rubio,
Skriet,
Funky Four + One,
CMW,
The Angels of Light,
The Neon Judgement,
Arthur Verocai,
Cymande,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Wyatt,
John Coltrane,
Gong,
T.S.O.L.,
Quando Quango,
Sugar Minott,
The Dead C,
The Stooges,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang Gang Dance,
Electric Prunes,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fugs,
Fugazi,
Tommy Roe,
Harmonia,
Crime,
Alphaville,
E-Dancer,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arab on Radar,
The Mummies,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Saints,
Unwound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Toasters,
Soft Machine,
The Evens,
Massinfluence,
Joe Finger,
Flash Fearless,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ossler,
Idris Muhammad,
Dennis Brown,
Joe Smooth,
ABC,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Unrelated Segments,
Urselle,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.