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 Lithuania and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Dorothy Ashby to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barrington Levy,
The Angels of Light,
Fluxion,
Sound Behaviour,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gabor Szabo,
Blossom Toes,
Sugar Minott,
JFA,
June of 44,
Sex Pistols,
Adolescents,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang of Four,
Dead Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Shadows of Knight,
Minutemen,
Skriet,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Starr,
The Litter,
the Swans,
Mars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Divine Comedy,
the Slits,
Slave,
Mo-Dettes,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rites of Spring,
Roxy Music,
Ituana,
Black Sheep,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wally Richardson,
The Techniques,
Mission of Burma,
Panda Bear,
Terry Callier,
Das Ding,
The Seeds,
The Fortunes,
Erykah Badu,
Isaac Hayes,
Alice Coltrane,
Skaos,
Malaria!,
Los Fastidios,
Funky Four + One,
Marcia Griffiths,
T.S.O.L.,
Freddie Wadling,
John Holt,
Ken Boothe,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.