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 Czech Republic and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tremeloes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Mars,
Rufus Thomas,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Angels of Light,
Eli Mardock,
Colin Newman,
Nirvana,
Pantaleimon,
Jeff Mills,
Junior Murvin,
Public Enemy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Vogues,
Oneida,
Carl Craig,
The Invisible,
Laurel Aitken,
Davy DMX,
Blancmange,
Visage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Outsiders,
The Kinks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bauhaus,
Peter & Gordon,
Shoche,
Kayak,
Kerri Chandler,
The Residents,
Agent Orange,
Chris & Cosey,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Christie,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Trojans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alton Ellis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deakin,
F. McDonald,
Roger Hodgson,
ABBA,
Roxette,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun Ra,
Joey Negro,
The Names,
Rosa Yemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Metal Thangz,
Erykah Badu,
Flamin' Groovies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.