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 Denmark and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Interpol to the disco 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Excepter,
A Certain Ratio,
The Trojans,
In Retrospect,
Moss Icon,
John Holt,
Danielle Patucci,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Clear Light,
Whodini,
June of 44,
Andrew Hill,
The Litter,
Magma,
Drexciya,
Crash Course in Science,
Country Teasers,
Aloha Tigers,
The Smiths,
Kaleidoscope,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Peter and Kerry,
Quadrant,
OOIOO,
T. Rex,
The Moleskins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
LL Cool J,
Marc Almond,
Camouflage,
Skaos,
Anthony Braxton,
Masters at Work,
Liliput,
Main Source,
Rotary Connection,
Los Fastidios,
Reuben Wilson,
Gong,
The Gories,
Urselle,
Metal Thangz,
FM Einheit,
Alphaville,
Maleditus Sound,
Oblivians,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Remains,
Youth Brigade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Glenn Branca,
Black Pus,
Harry Pussy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minutemen,
Letta Mbulu,
Cheater Slicks,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.