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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tears for Fears to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Thompson Twins,
The Gap Band,
Wasted Youth,
The Names,
48th St. Collective,
Nico,
The Smoke,
Junior Murvin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Procol Harum,
The Mojo Men,
T. Rex,
Agitation Free,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
The Grass Roots,
Rites of Spring,
The Tremeloes,
Echospace,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Bananas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Henry Cow,
Ituana,
DNA,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pagans,
Groovy Waters,
ABC,
Kayak,
The Misunderstood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pylon,
Mars,
Mantronix,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
Peter & Gordon,
Liliput,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yellowson,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Techniques,
Trumans Water,
Robert Wyatt,
Television,
Boredoms,
Todd Terry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ossler,
Zapp,
Sam Rivers,
U.S. Maple,
Flipper,
Ponytail,
The Fall,
Patti Smith,
The Zeros,
Guru Guru,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.