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 Seychelles and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
the Germs,
The Kinks,
Blancmange,
Crooked Eye,
Eden Ahbez,
Sixth Finger,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blossom Toes,
Mandrill,
Eric Dolphy,
The Durutti Column,
ABBA,
Fugazi,
Althea and Donna,
Maurizio,
The Barracudas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brothers Johnson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Todd Rundgren,
Amazonics,
Loose Ends,
Scrapy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Misunderstood,
Terry Callier,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Pus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Duran Duran,
Jacques Brel,
Aaron Thompson,
Soft Machine,
Scan 7,
Wasted Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Hill,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Liliput,
Dual Sessions,
Toni Rubio,
Peter and Kerry,
Harmonia,
Dawn Penn,
Mantronix,
Sällskapet,
Yellowson,
The Remains,
X-102,
The Velvet Underground,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang of Four,
Urselle,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Slits,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fortunes,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.