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 Yemen and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Underground Resistance,
Sister Nancy,
Pantytec,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dead Boys,
Iggy Pop,
ABBA,
The Victims,
La Düsseldorf,
Clear Light,
The New Christs,
Oneida,
Soft Cell,
Supertramp,
Peter & Gordon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Pus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hoover,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
China Crisis,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Modern Lovers,
Harmonia,
Black Bananas,
Duran Duran,
Icehouse,
Erasure,
The United States of America,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mummies,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Golliwogs,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Christie,
The Grass Roots,
Jeff Mills,
Matthew Bourne,
The Pop Group,
Lakeside,
The Index,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Saccharine Trust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
UT,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Anakelly,
Radiopuhelimet,
New York Dolls,
The Techniques,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mars,
Soft Machine,
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.