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 Swaziland and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Eve St. Jones to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Hoover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roxette,
The Slackers,
Bauhaus,
Danielle Patucci,
Chrome,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Urselle,
K-Klass,
Nico,
Sam Rivers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deepchord,
Camouflage,
Cybotron,
The Wake,
Heaven 17,
The Walker Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Section 25,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fatback Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
Kaleidoscope,
Michelle Simonal,
Reagan Youth,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eden Ahbez,
The Durutti Column,
Nirvana,
the Sonics,
KRS-One,
D'Angelo,
Sister Nancy,
Ice-T,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
Pylon,
Hardrive,
The Cowsills,
Jandek,
Flamin' Groovies,
Technova,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bang On A Can,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Supertramp,
Yazoo,
Glenn Branca,
Spoonie Gee,
Camberwell Now,
Khruangbin,
Sarah Menescal,
The Remains,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.