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 Israel and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The J.B.'s to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Red Krayola,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sonics,
The Searchers,
New Age Steppers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soulsonic Force,
The Residents,
The Fire Engines,
X-102,
Crooked Eye,
The Electric Prunes,
Theoretical Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Babytalk,
Jacques Brel,
Bang On A Can,
Joey Negro,
Gregory Isaacs,
Flash Fearless,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott Heron,
In Retrospect,
John Cale,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Misunderstood,
Pole,
Oneida,
Henry Cow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
June Days,
Crime,
The Durutti Column,
Stockholm Monsters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rosa Yemen,
Masters at Work,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Mars,
Excepter,
Simply Red,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Q65,
Swell Maps,
Buzzcocks,
Main Source,
Adolescents,
Mad Mike,
Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Clear Light,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hot Snakes,
The Beau Brummels,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.