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 Rwanda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 James White and The Blacks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Scott Walker,
Smog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Star Department,
Nico,
Accadde A,
Underground Resistance,
Arthur Verocai,
Skaos,
Outsiders,
cv313,
Cecil Taylor,
Spandau Ballet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Steve Hackett,
Letta Mbulu,
Desert Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Music Machine,
Khruangbin,
Cymande,
Pulsallama,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pylon,
Babytalk,
Hasil Adkins,
Sällskapet,
Lyres,
Brass Construction,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Smoke,
Dead Boys,
Grauzone,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Five Americans,
Ultravox,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Michelle Simonal,
Warsaw,
The Fall,
Bluetip,
Soft Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Easy Going,
The Red Krayola,
Sound Behaviour,
Pussy Galore,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Symarip,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeff Lynne,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.