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 Norway and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gang of Four to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Wasted Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Delta 5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Toasters,
Erasure,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mummies,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flipper,
Goldenarms,
The Saints,
Marshall Jefferson,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Divine Comedy,
Loose Ends,
David Bowie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jeff Lynne,
The Standells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bronski Beat,
Tubeway Army,
Sun Ra,
Funkadelic,
Motorama,
Banda Bassotti,
Magma,
Newcleus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultravox,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
In Retrospect,
June Days,
EPMD,
The American Breed,
Deepchord,
Barry Ungar,
Procol Harum,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sexual Harrassment,
Freddie Wadling,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fear,
Robert Wyatt,
Todd Rundgren,
Wire,
Connie Case,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Chris Corsano,
Warsaw,
K-Klass,
the Normal,
Eric Copeland,
Eli Mardock,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marc Almond,
The Mojo Men,
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.