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 Bulgaria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 In Retrospect to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxy Music,
Scion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Malaria!,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tears for Fears,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
World's Most,
Au Pairs,
John Coltrane,
Interpol,
Lungfish,
Swans,
Silicon Teens,
LL Cool J,
Bad Manners,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monks,
Hashim,
Mars,
Goldenarms,
Moebius,
Visage,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gap Band,
The Gladiators,
Brick,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joe Finger,
Yellowson,
Tommy Roe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lakeside,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs,
The Zeros,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Underground Resistance,
Erykah Badu,
Lalo Schifrin,
Charles Mingus,
Andrew Hill,
Parry Music,
Jeff Lynne,
JFA,
Barrington Levy,
Soul II Soul,
Von Mondo,
X-102,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gastr Del Sol,
Q65,
The Fortunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monolake,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Depeche Mode,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.