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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Remains to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Skarface,
The Velvet Underground,
Section 25,
Stetsasonic,
The Wake,
Crooked Eye,
Crime,
The Gories,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joy Division,
Audionom,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Doors,
U.S. Maple,
Rosa Yemen,
Livin' Joy,
Johnny Clarke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skaos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mad Mike,
Flamin' Groovies,
Index,
Motorama,
Can,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Slits,
Drexciya,
Bobby Womack,
LL Cool J,
Sällskapet,
Soft Machine,
Television,
Brand Nubian,
Lungfish,
The Beau Brummels,
Moebius,
Lou Christie,
Rakim,
Popol Vuh,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Silicon Teens,
Parry Music,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Litter,
Ten City,
Alison Limerick,
T. Rex,
Sugar Minott,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Names,
The Divine Comedy,
The Offenders,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.