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 Italy and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Surgeon to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Outsiders,
Iggy Pop,
Black Sheep,
Henry Cow,
Mission of Burma,
Vainqueur,
Mark Hollis,
Eric Dolphy,
Average White Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Icehouse,
Yusef Lateef,
Guru Guru,
Spandau Ballet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
10cc,
Q65,
Organ,
Amazonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slits,
Monolake,
The Busters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Erasure,
Shuggie Otis,
The Names,
The Cowsills,
Mad Mike,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Khruangbin,
Make Up,
The Smiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Coltrane,
Fear,
Visage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pulsallama,
Cybotron,
Charles Mingus,
Quadrant,
Donny Hathaway,
Gastr Del Sol,
Oneida,
The Divine Comedy,
The Music Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
48th St. Collective,
Skriet,
The Misunderstood,
B.T. Express,
Roxette,
Duran Duran,
Isaac Hayes,
Suburban Knight,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.