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 Togo and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bauhaus,
Connie Case,
The Mighty Diamonds,
CMW,
The J.B.'s,
The Red Krayola,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Radio Birdman,
T.S.O.L.,
Iggy Pop,
Pharoah Sanders,
Anakelly,
K-Klass,
Lungfish,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Television,
Kevin Saunderson,
Public Enemy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yellowson,
Slick Rick,
Harmonia,
Kaleidoscope,
Gichy Dan,
Ultra Naté,
The Smoke,
The Raincoats,
Oneida,
Bob Dylan,
Erykah Badu,
The Residents,
Flipper,
Glambeats Corp.,
Trumans Water,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Outsiders,
Black Moon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scientists,
The Selecter,
The Human League,
Dawn Penn,
Nik Kershaw,
Oblivians,
Tubeway Army,
The Music Machine,
The Sound,
Fear,
Organ,
The Doors,
Lindisfarne,
Jacob Miller,
Liliput,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sparks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.