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 Belarus and from Copenhagen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 T. Rex to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
U.S. Maple,
Pierre Henry,
E-Dancer,
KRS-One,
R.M.O.,
Arthur Verocai,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Green,
The Pop Group,
Lucky Dragons,
Das Ding,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pulsallama,
Terry Callier,
Heaven 17,
Stiv Bators,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang of Four,
The Evens,
Nas,
Danielle Patucci,
Josef K,
Au Pairs,
Mandrill,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vainqueur,
June Days,
Dual Sessions,
Lou Reed,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Byrd,
Sexual Harrassment,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wally Richardson,
Tomorrow,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun City Girls,
Magma,
Suicide,
The Litter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rapeman,
Essential Logic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker,
The Neon Judgement,
Judy Mowatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eli Mardock,
Roxette,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minor Threat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cymande,
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
The Cure,
Parry Music,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Sheep,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.