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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grunge 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Japan,
Infiniti,
The Buckinghams,
Stereo Dub,
Ohio Players,
Deakin,
Youth Brigade,
Basic Channel,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lower 48,
Robert Görl,
Outsiders,
Chris & Cosey,
Lungfish,
The Trojans,
The Cowsills,
B.T. Express,
The Slits,
Zapp,
DJ Sneak,
Jeff Lynne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Neon Judgement,
Mandrill,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scratch Acid,
Kurtis Blow,
Junior Murvin,
Eric Copeland,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brass Construction,
The Victims,
Gang Starr,
The Kinks,
Dennis Brown,
The Fortunes,
Steve Hackett,
Blake Baxter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jacques Brel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Severed Heads,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delta 5,
Interpol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultravox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Talk Talk,
Moebius,
Newcleus,
Niagra,
Echospace,
The Knickerbockers,
LL Cool J,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.