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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Moody Blues to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Steve Hackett,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
Pantaleimon,
Bauhaus,
Au Pairs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scan 7,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Neil Young,
The Dirtbombs,
Organ,
Josef K,
Bill Wells,
PIL,
Hot Snakes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funky Four + One,
The Music Machine,
Massinfluence,
The Names,
Soft Machine,
Patti Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moody Blues,
The Human League,
Byron Stingily,
The Cramps,
Groovy Waters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skaos,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
Theoretical Girls,
Ice-T,
Kayak,
Soul Sonic Force,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camouflage,
Moebius,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eden Ahbez,
Roxy Music,
Wire,
Slave,
Infiniti,
Banda Bassotti,
Yaz,
Parry Music,
One Last Wish,
Pantytec,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.