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 Colombia and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Minny Pops to the electroclash 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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Andrew Hill,
Joyce Sims,
John Holt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang of Four,
Ludus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Parry Music,
The Sonics,
Faraquet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Görl,
Slick Rick,
Sex Pistols,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Vladislav Delay,
Hardrive,
Girls At Our Best!,
Laurel Aitken,
Joey Negro,
Donny Hathaway,
Deepchord,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The J.B.'s,
Skriet,
The Selecter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moebius,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alison Limerick,
Desert Stars,
Blossom Toes,
This Heat,
Charles Mingus,
Procol Harum,
Ice-T,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Alton Ellis,
Schoolly D,
Tom Boy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Magazine,
Kas Product,
Aloha Tigers,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dual Sessions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fela Kuti,
Ultravox,
Qualms,
Todd Rundgren,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Wells,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.