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 Congo and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Saints,
Make Up,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dawn Penn,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mummies,
The Busters,
The Barracudas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Lydon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Wyatt,
Negative Approach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marine Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bootsy Collins,
the Normal,
Slave,
Joe Smooth,
The Kinks,
Crash Course in Science,
The Velvet Underground,
The Searchers,
Zero Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lower 48,
Camberwell Now,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Kenny Larkin,
Deakin,
Main Source,
Eurythmics,
The Five Americans,
The Move,
Junior Murvin,
David Bowie,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Brass Construction,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nas,
the Association,
Severed Heads,
Excepter,
Little Man,
Erasure,
Rakim,
Eden Ahbez,
Steve Hackett,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Swans,
Alice Coltrane,
Japan,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.