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 Lesotho and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
The Kinks,
Cameo,
New Age Steppers,
Siglo XX,
The Mummies,
The Leaves,
Bang On A Can,
Wings,
Reagan Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Lungfish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Japan,
Con Funk Shun,
Henry Cow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yellowson,
Symarip,
Brick,
Neil Young,
Banda Bassotti,
Clear Light,
The Shadows of Knight,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Spandau Ballet,
Skaos,
Parry Music,
Piero Umiliani,
CMW,
Deadbeat,
Shoche,
Rosa Yemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
FM Einheit,
Barrington Levy,
Fatback Band,
Morten Harket,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T. Rex,
Derrick May,
Jerry's Kids,
Unwound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Traffic Nightmare,
Depeche Mode,
Model 500,
The Angels of Light,
Magazine,
Lightning Bolt,
The Durutti Column,
Television Personalities,
Cymande,
Lalann,
Ice-T,
Kas Product,
Half Japanese,
Al Stewart,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.