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 Seoul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
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 linndrum 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 Brothers Johnson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Sunsets and Hearts,
X-102,
Sexual Harrassment,
T. Rex,
Byron Stingily,
Harmonia,
Marine Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Ken Boothe,
Arab on Radar,
The Misunderstood,
MC5,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
Popol Vuh,
Lakeside,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Divine Comedy,
kango's stein massive,
Tears for Fears,
Stetsasonic,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Flag,
The Selecter,
Scion,
Rakim,
Cluster,
Ultra Naté,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Velvet Underground,
A Certain Ratio,
Stiv Bators,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Last Poets,
Bad Manners,
Black Bananas,
Hardrive,
The Fall,
Reagan Youth,
The Offenders,
Alton Ellis,
Supertramp,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Rapeman,
Public Enemy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Silicon Teens,
Section 25,
Slave,
Groovy Waters,
Unwound,
Brass Construction,
The Red Krayola,
Can,
Matthew Bourne,
Cameo,
Mad Mike,
Eric Copeland,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.