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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes 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 Ohio Players to the rap 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
The Wake,
Robert Hood,
Thompson Twins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hoover,
AZ,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Pus,
The Gap Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ronan,
Scan 7,
Zero Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Derrick Morgan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hot Snakes,
The Star Department,
Monks,
The Names,
Grey Daturas,
Saccharine Trust,
Panda Bear,
Black Bananas,
Letta Mbulu,
The Gun Club,
Arthur Verocai,
Freddie Wadling,
Jandek,
Slick Rick,
Brothers Johnson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monolake,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Magma,
David McCallum,
Jacob Miller,
Moebius,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Christie,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harpers Bizarre,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vainqueur,
Gichy Dan,
CMW,
Television Personalities,
Dennis Brown,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T. Rex,
Ultravox,
Pere Ubu,
James White and The Blacks,
Ornette Coleman,
Minnie Riperton,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.