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 Moldova and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Lalann,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Visage,
Peter and Kerry,
Q and Not U,
Frankie Knuckles,
Chrome,
8 Eyed Spy,
Khruangbin,
Marc Almond,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dirtbombs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Germs,
Brick,
Main Source,
Howard Jones,
The Names,
Procol Harum,
Lindisfarne,
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
The J.B.'s,
June Days,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Monks,
China Crisis,
Dead Boys,
Rekid,
Newcleus,
Mr. Review,
Kool Moe Dee,
Malaria!,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grauzone,
Cymande,
The Five Americans,
The Young Rascals,
Joensuu 1685,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Simply Red,
Jesper Dahlback,
Juan Atkins,
Magma,
The Move,
Althea and Donna,
Fat Boys,
The Tremeloes,
Ronnie Foster,
Sound Behaviour,
Lakeside,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Leonard Cohen,
Minutemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.