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 Jamaica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Donald Byrd to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Todd Rundgren,
Archie Shepp,
Jacob Miller,
Pet Shop Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Ituana,
The Names,
Yazoo,
John Foxx,
John Cale,
Matthew Halsall,
Ossler,
F. McDonald,
Quantec,
Scan 7,
The Golliwogs,
Tim Buckley,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grey Daturas,
Minnie Riperton,
New York Dolls,
Pantaleimon,
Joensuu 1685,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Metal Thangz,
The Moleskins,
Colin Newman,
Surgeon,
the Slits,
Connie Case,
Mr. Review,
The Walker Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fela Kuti,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Saints,
The Litter,
Subhumans,
Kas Product,
Hashim,
Dead Boys,
Carl Craig,
The Invisible,
Kaleidoscope,
Piero Umiliani,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quadrant,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Soul II Soul,
Reuben Wilson,
Deepchord,
Hoover,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Wells,
Mad Mike,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.