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 Malaysia and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moby Grape to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
The Martian,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Pus,
the Normal,
The Grass Roots,
Sugar Minott,
Charles Mingus,
Peter and Kerry,
Tears for Fears,
The Mummies,
Junior Murvin,
Bad Manners,
The Angels of Light,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bang On A Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Freddie Wadling,
Marine Girls,
The Residents,
Chris Corsano,
Carl Craig,
The Dirtbombs,
Quadrant,
Model 500,
Massinfluence,
Josef K,
David McCallum,
Trumans Water,
Gang of Four,
the Germs,
The Index,
Mad Mike,
Dead Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Christie,
Tim Buckley,
Kool Moe Dee,
Young Marble Giants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Searchers,
Yaz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sun Ra,
Fela Kuti,
Lakeside,
Cheater Slicks,
Godley & Creme,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bill Wells,
Barclay James Harvest,
Surgeon,
Barry Ungar,
Cluster,
Warsaw,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.