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 Switzerland and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Michelle Simonal to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Eli Mardock,
The Count Five,
The Durutti Column,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Wyatt,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
Supertramp,
Lebanon Hanover,
B.T. Express,
cv313,
The Real Kids,
Whodini,
The Fortunes,
The Slits,
Scott Walker,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun City Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Charles Mingus,
Swans,
Ossler,
Sight & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül II,
Yazoo,
Howard Jones,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gories,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Smoke,
Deakin,
Mr. Review,
Cymande,
The J.B.'s,
Jandek,
T.S.O.L.,
Darondo,
U.S. Maple,
Stiv Bators,
Fear,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
One Last Wish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crooked Eye,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ice-T,
Spandau Ballet,
Colin Newman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Morten Harket,
Matthew Halsall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Certain Ratio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moby Grape,
DJ Sneak,
The Leaves,
The Star Department,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.