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 Malta and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Names to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Cal Tjader,
Goldenarms,
New Order,
Fela Kuti,
Alphaville,
Terry Callier,
Intrusion,
The Index,
Jeff Lynne,
Lightning Bolt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Supertramp,
Thee Headcoats,
Joey Negro,
Radio Birdman,
The Fortunes,
Stetsasonic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
China Crisis,
the Human League,
Brothers Johnson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Star Department,
John Holt,
Drexciya,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scan 7,
Roxy Music,
Hot Snakes,
Judy Mowatt,
Tommy Roe,
Jacob Miller,
The Slits,
ABBA,
Rakim,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Desert Stars,
K-Klass,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Names,
Funky Four + One,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joe Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Offenders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Loose Ends,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kaleidoscope,
Ponytail,
Roger Hodgson,
Nas,
Gregory Isaacs,
Man Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Delta 5,
The Gladiators,
Soft Machine,
Todd Rundgren,
Harry Pussy,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.