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 Maldives and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ 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 L. Decosne to the rock 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amazonics,
Monks,
Steve Hackett,
K-Klass,
Babytalk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wolf Eyes,
Tubeway Army,
Organ,
H. Thieme,
Whodini,
The Index,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Yusef Lateef,
Althea and Donna,
Thee Headcoats,
Yaz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lalo Schifrin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Radiohead,
Wasted Youth,
Malaria!,
DJ Sneak,
Vainqueur,
Metal Thangz,
In Retrospect,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Agent Orange,
Franke,
The Busters,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
La Düsseldorf,
Iggy Pop,
Marc Almond,
Urselle,
Minutemen,
Inner City,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Q and Not U,
The Monochrome Set,
Little Man,
Tomorrow,
Faraquet,
Ponytail,
Liliput,
Bronski Beat,
The Dave Clark Five,
JFA,
Isaac Hayes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cramps,
Toni Rubio,
Con Funk Shun,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.