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 Gambia and from Manchester.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Cure to the funk 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Fad Gadget,
Crooked Eye,
Freddie Wadling,
Motorama,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joey Negro,
Bang On A Can,
The Gories,
The Five Americans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Axelrod,
Chris Corsano,
Panda Bear,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Surgeon,
New York Dolls,
Neu!,
Cluster,
Unrelated Segments,
L. Decosne,
Monolake,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
Masters at Work,
Sandy B,
Soft Machine,
10cc,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Television Personalities,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dawn Penn,
X-101,
The Grass Roots,
Wings,
Connie Case,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kevin Saunderson,
Funky Four + One,
Cecil Taylor,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bauhaus,
Bad Manners,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
John Lydon,
Deakin,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tomorrow,
Duran Duran,
Fatback Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
Ten City,
CMW,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.