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 Gambia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Al Stewart to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Minutemen,
June of 44,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Moleskins,
kango's stein massive,
T. Rex,
Charles Mingus,
Eli Mardock,
Leonard Cohen,
One Last Wish,
The Cowsills,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cybotron,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
The Mojo Men,
Sun City Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blancmange,
The Invisible,
Procol Harum,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Almond,
Marvin Gaye,
Fat Boys,
Quando Quango,
the Bar-Kays,
The Victims,
Ossler,
The Leaves,
Saccharine Trust,
the Fania All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Barbara Tucker,
The Golliwogs,
Infiniti,
the Sonics,
Connie Case,
Ice-T,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ponytail,
Wasted Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bad Manners,
Half Japanese,
Man Eating Sloth,
Can,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Isaac Hayes,
Max Romeo,
The Red Krayola,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Womack,
DJ Sneak,
X-102,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.