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 Syria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 Al Stewart to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Mark Hollis,
Brothers Johnson,
Saccharine Trust,
Reagan Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Moby Grape,
Fad Gadget,
Swans,
Zapp,
Sight & Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Babytalk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pussy Galore,
Easy Going,
Minutemen,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Amazonics,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pop Group,
Harry Pussy,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Enemy,
Y Pants,
Maurizio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cal Tjader,
Average White Band,
Godley & Creme,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick May,
F. McDonald,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
EPMD,
Lalann,
The Barracudas,
Eurythmics,
Brand Nubian,
The Human League,
Kool Moe Dee,
48th St. Collective,
Bootsy Collins,
The Kinks,
Bobby Sherman,
CMW,
Iggy Pop,
Wings,
John Holt,
the Bar-Kays,
The Modern Lovers,
Mars,
the Soft Cell,
The Litter,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.