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 Ecuador and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Young Rascals to the techno 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Robert Hood,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crooked Eye,
Groovy Waters,
Mark Hollis,
Cymande,
Whodini,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Saints,
Black Pus,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Bananas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tears for Fears,
Essential Logic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Sonics,
Grey Daturas,
Fela Kuti,
Pere Ubu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Drexciya,
John Foxx,
Deakin,
June of 44,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aural Exciters,
Janne Schatter,
Minny Pops,
Tim Buckley,
Charles Mingus,
the Human League,
Au Pairs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moby Grape,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Junior Murvin,
Connie Case,
Sparks,
The Cowsills,
Bush Tetras,
Mission of Burma,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Ludus,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Angels of Light,
Robert Wyatt,
Tommy Roe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rod Modell,
Can,
Cluster,
Maurizio,
Marvin Gaye,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Procol Harum,
Vainqueur,
Terry Callier,
Kayak,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.