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 Bahrain and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fatback Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
John Holt,
Loose Ends,
The Red Krayola,
Peter & Gordon,
Zero Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roxette,
Bobby Sherman,
The Buckinghams,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Reuben Wilson,
John Cale,
Zapp,
Carl Craig,
Harpers Bizarre,
Laurel Aitken,
The Martian,
Eric Dolphy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Michelle Simonal,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slackers,
Prince Buster,
Duran Duran,
Sonic Youth,
Bill Wells,
Henry Cow,
Blossom Toes,
the Normal,
the Sonics,
Echospace,
Whodini,
Sugar Minott,
Q65,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fugs,
Das Ding,
Metal Thangz,
Magma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The New Christs,
Ultravox,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Human League,
Dual Sessions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skaos,
June Days,
Camouflage,
Matthew Halsall,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Smiths,
John Lydon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eden Ahbez,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.