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 Bulgaria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 Tubeway Army to the dance 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
Interpol,
Harry Pussy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
10cc,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang On A Can,
Suicide,
Desert Stars,
The Smoke,
Adolescents,
Arthur Verocai,
the Normal,
Stereo Dub,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scott Walker,
Section 25,
The Slits,
Warren Ellis,
Minutemen,
Tears for Fears,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hoover,
One Last Wish,
Faust,
Model 500,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mummies,
Bill Wells,
Matthew Bourne,
Barrington Levy,
Amon Düül II,
Magma,
Absolute Body Control,
The Walker Brothers,
The Slackers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Velvet Underground,
Urselle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Seeds,
The Skatalites,
T.S.O.L.,
Brass Construction,
The Residents,
Gang of Four,
Susan Cadogan,
F. McDonald,
Angry Samoans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Robert Görl,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rekid,
Fugazi,
John Coltrane,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.