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 Comoros and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Henry Cow,
Duran Duran,
The Human League,
48th St. Collective,
Hashim,
Television,
Ken Boothe,
Iggy Pop,
Morten Harket,
Idris Muhammad,
Joe Finger,
a-ha,
Soft Machine,
Eric Dolphy,
Mandrill,
Man Parrish,
Altered Images,
Ten City,
The Cramps,
Dark Day,
Eurythmics,
Terry Callier,
Barrington Levy,
Suburban Knight,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Moss Icon,
Josef K,
Neil Young,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Junior Murvin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eli Mardock,
Black Pus,
Carl Craig,
Spandau Ballet,
L. Decosne,
Bluetip,
Monks,
Second Layer,
The Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Das Ding,
Masters at Work,
Sight & Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
Motorama,
China Crisis,
Lindisfarne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Index,
The Knickerbockers,
PIL,
Crooked Eye,
Yazoo,
Babytalk,
Newcleus,
In Retrospect,
Interpol,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.