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 Chile and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Spandau Ballet to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Marc Almond,
Sun City Girls,
Pylon,
Royal Trux,
Aloha Tigers,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sandy B,
Skarface,
Eli Mardock,
The Velvet Underground,
Peter and Kerry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rufus Thomas,
Charles Mingus,
Maleditus Sound,
Andrew Hill,
Nils Olav,
Trumans Water,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Smooth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hashim,
Chrome,
Frankie Knuckles,
Janne Schatter,
Black Pus,
the Germs,
The Black Dice,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rites of Spring,
Wasted Youth,
New York Dolls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Q65,
Unwound,
Desert Stars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scott Walker,
Jeff Mills,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James White and The Blacks,
Minny Pops,
Hardrive,
Flamin' Groovies,
Organ,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Agent Orange,
Interpol,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
JFA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Maurizio,
The Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
The Offenders,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.