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 Singapore and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes 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 X-101 to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Maleditus Sound,
Loose Ends,
X-101,
the Soft Cell,
Suburban Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cybotron,
Popol Vuh,
Erasure,
Supertramp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drexciya,
Eyeless In Gaza,
In Retrospect,
Ossler,
Susan Cadogan,
Dual Sessions,
Sixth Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
Sandy B,
Radiohead,
The Saints,
The Searchers,
Maurizio,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Scion,
The Gladiators,
Freddie Wadling,
Stetsasonic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Audionom,
The Smiths,
F. McDonald,
The Velvet Underground,
Man Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
Japan,
Pierre Henry,
Eddi Front,
Henry Cow,
Country Teasers,
Skriet,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Style,
Cecil Taylor,
Urselle,
Can,
Lalann,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Faraquet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brothers Johnson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bad Manners,
Eden Ahbez,
Stiv Bators,
These Immortal Souls,
Interpol,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.