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 South Africa and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jacques Brel to the rap 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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Pylon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
U.S. Maple,
Unwound,
Camberwell Now,
The Trojans,
The Buckinghams,
Roxette,
Ronan,
Moebius,
Underground Resistance,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masters at Work,
Gang of Four,
Wings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Real Kids,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Selecter,
Steve Hackett,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roxy Music,
Gastr Del Sol,
Inner City,
Deakin,
The Beau Brummels,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bill Wells,
Television,
the Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
Crime,
Terry Callier,
Dark Day,
Parry Music,
Nick Fraelich,
The Stooges,
OOIOO,
Tom Boy,
The Birthday Party,
Aural Exciters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Whodini,
Procol Harum,
Robert Görl,
CMW,
Minor Threat,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marvin Gaye,
Marmalade,
Icehouse,
Saccharine Trust,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hot Snakes,
Black Moon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Suicide,
Fatback Band,
Juan Atkins,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.