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 Kiribati and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Doobie Brothers to the rock 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mission of Burma,
Howard Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
Depeche Mode,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Urselle,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eyeless In Gaza,
KRS-One,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Boredoms,
Minnie Riperton,
Lee Hazlewood,
Michelle Simonal,
The Associates,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Can,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
Rod Modell,
Pylon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Quadrant,
Spoonie Gee,
Archie Shepp,
The Litter,
Average White Band,
Q65,
Excepter,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Names,
The Cowsills,
Cal Tjader,
The Move,
Monks,
Clear Light,
John Cale,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
T. Rex,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter & Gordon,
Qualms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Vogues,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
David McCallum,
Kurtis Blow,
Jawbox,
Bobby Byrd,
Dark Day,
Bronski Beat,
Laurel Aitken,
Scratch Acid,
The Remains,
Danielle Patucci,
Kevin Saunderson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.