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 New Zealand 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sandy B to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Underground Resistance,
Kayak,
Oblivians,
Monks,
the Normal,
Lalo Schifrin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blake Baxter,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Skatalites,
The Sonics,
Neu!,
the Germs,
The Red Krayola,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cramps,
Motorama,
The Beau Brummels,
Hasil Adkins,
Rekid,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gichy Dan,
Black Moon,
The Raincoats,
Todd Rundgren,
Fatback Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Heaven 17,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slackers,
Icehouse,
Reagan Youth,
Sam Rivers,
the Bar-Kays,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dual Sessions,
Thee Headcoats,
Radiohead,
Soul II Soul,
Rites of Spring,
Nico,
Guru Guru,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Angels of Light,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Zeros,
Organ,
The Moody Blues,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Steve Hackett,
The Electric Prunes,
Slave,
Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
Scratch Acid,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.