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 Zimbabwe and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rock 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Gong,
Fatback Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
kango's stein massive,
the Human League,
Silicon Teens,
The Last Poets,
Radiohead,
H. Thieme,
LL Cool J,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare,
Subhumans,
Brick,
EPMD,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cecil Taylor,
Crime,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marc Almond,
Danielle Patucci,
Arab on Radar,
a-ha,
Mantronix,
Ken Boothe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Bill Wells,
The Music Machine,
Malaria!,
Talk Talk,
Soft Machine,
the Swans,
Davy DMX,
Scientists,
Drive Like Jehu,
Siglo XX,
Dawn Penn,
New Order,
Howard Jones,
Reagan Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Pylon,
The Golliwogs,
Stereo Dub,
Lebanon Hanover,
Surgeon,
Wasted Youth,
Deadbeat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Godley & Creme,
U.S. Maple,
Junior Murvin,
Al Stewart,
Isaac Hayes,
Yusef Lateef,
Aloha Tigers,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.