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 Liberia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bobby Womack to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare,
Cal Tjader,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Newcleus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flash Fearless,
Blancmange,
The Gladiators,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kerri Chandler,
Q65,
Quantec,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yaz,
The Kinks,
The Count Five,
Mission of Burma,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gastr Del Sol,
FM Einheit,
Circle Jerks,
Patti Smith,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Womack,
Michelle Simonal,
Adolescents,
Colin Newman,
Unwound,
New Age Steppers,
L. Decosne,
Main Source,
Dawn Penn,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cheater Slicks,
Connie Case,
Wire,
Stetsasonic,
The Motions,
Eden Ahbez,
The Wake,
Depeche Mode,
Altered Images,
DJ Sneak,
Vainqueur,
Roy Ayers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Knickerbockers,
Pylon,
The American Breed,
Eli Mardock,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bluetip,
Mo-Dettes,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.