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 Luxembourg and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Terrestrial Tones to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Howard Jones,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sister Nancy,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Swans,
Nick Fraelich,
The Raincoats,
Morten Harket,
The Blues Magoos,
ABC,
Derrick Morgan,
Eric Copeland,
David Axelrod,
The American Breed,
The Music Machine,
R.M.O.,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Starr,
Lungfish,
Popol Vuh,
John Coltrane,
Wire,
In Retrospect,
Inner City,
Sparks,
Index,
Arthur Verocai,
Camouflage,
The Happenings,
Matthew Bourne,
Khruangbin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Electric Prunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Funkadelic,
Pussy Galore,
Black Moon,
Gang Green,
Qualms,
Das Ding,
Subhumans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marine Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Yusef Lateef,
Vainqueur,
Crispian St. Peters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Goldenarms,
Kenny Larkin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
Animal Collective,
Isaac Hayes,
Aural Exciters,
The Fall,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.