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 Mexico and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 La Düsseldorf to the rap 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Arthur Verocai,
The Invisible,
Excepter,
Magazine,
Black Moon,
X-101,
The Pop Group,
ABC,
The Techniques,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tears for Fears,
Man Parrish,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
Ultravox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siglo XX,
Ultra Naté,
John Cale,
Subhumans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Last Poets,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fluxion,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Christie,
The Divine Comedy,
The Moleskins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rhythm & Sound,
E-Dancer,
Rakim,
Magma,
Darondo,
Dawn Penn,
Yusef Lateef,
Parry Music,
Franke,
Monks,
Stiv Bators,
Letta Mbulu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yazoo,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Seeds,
DJ Sneak,
Tres Demented,
Basic Channel,
The Associates,
The American Breed,
Jesper Dahlback,
Index,
The Neon Judgement,
Tommy Roe,
Black Flag,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.