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 Equatorial Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Jeff Lynne to the punk 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Josef K,
Wasted Youth,
Niagra,
Khruangbin,
MC5,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pierre Henry,
The Doors,
Bang On A Can,
Dual Sessions,
Sound Behaviour,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Dead C,
Arab on Radar,
Ornette Coleman,
Todd Terry,
The Durutti Column,
Erykah Badu,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott Heron,
Davy DMX,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flash Fearless,
Joensuu 1685,
Minnie Riperton,
Au Pairs,
Vainqueur,
The Fuzztones,
Sandy B,
Motorama,
Roxette,
Malaria!,
The Blackbyrds,
Unrelated Segments,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
48th St. Collective,
The Residents,
Ohio Players,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q and Not U,
Fugazi,
Tubeway Army,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Graham Central Station,
China Crisis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Iggy Pop,
The Motions,
Nico,
Pere Ubu,
The Young Rascals,
Kaleidoscope,
F. McDonald,
the Soft Cell,
Oneida,
Mary Jane Girls,
Slave,
The Evens,
Desert Stars,
ABC,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.