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 Hungary and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 John Foxx to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
These Immortal Souls,
Reuben Wilson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Blancmange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Connie Case,
Ronnie Foster,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Intrusion,
Sonic Youth,
One Last Wish,
Nils Olav,
Gong,
Bad Manners,
Gang Green,
The Blues Magoos,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
The Real Kids,
The J.B.'s,
The Offenders,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Smog,
Second Layer,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Main Source,
Adolescents,
Spandau Ballet,
Letta Mbulu,
Interpol,
Yellowson,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeff Lynne,
La Düsseldorf,
Sandy B,
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mission of Burma,
Bill Near,
Rites of Spring,
Godley & Creme,
LL Cool J,
Toni Rubio,
Bootsy Collins,
Albert Ayler,
The Tremeloes,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fuzztones,
Outsiders,
Aural Exciters,
Accadde A,
Brand Nubian,
Andrew Hill,
The Count Five,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.