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 Tanzania 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Aloha Tigers to the rock 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
Bronski Beat,
Whodini,
The Standells,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Womack,
Clear Light,
These Immortal Souls,
The Offenders,
Television,
Gabor Szabo,
Monolake,
The Slits,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fatback Band,
Bush Tetras,
Jesper Dahlback,
Audionom,
James Chance & The Contortions,
D'Angelo,
Smog,
Barry Ungar,
Eve St. Jones,
Nils Olav,
Cheater Slicks,
Silicon Teens,
Q and Not U,
The Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amon Düül II,
Pulsallama,
Joy Division,
PIL,
Main Source,
Metal Thangz,
The Trojans,
Gang of Four,
Alton Ellis,
Howard Jones,
JFA,
The Detroit Cobras,
Laurel Aitken,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Germs,
The Sonics,
Groovy Waters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blake Baxter,
The Durutti Column,
Animal Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Inner City,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Thee Headcoats,
Funky Four + One,
June of 44,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.