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 Armenia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Trojans to the jazz 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Wire,
John Foxx,
Franke,
Flipper,
Brick,
John Coltrane,
Audionom,
Urselle,
The Walker Brothers,
Yellowson,
EPMD,
Stiv Bators,
Swell Maps,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cybotron,
Man Parrish,
The Mojo Men,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Average White Band,
Lou Reed,
Crime,
Marvin Gaye,
Cluster,
Dark Day,
The Moody Blues,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pylon,
Camberwell Now,
Gang of Four,
La Düsseldorf,
Arthur Verocai,
Sällskapet,
Kayak,
Danielle Patucci,
Alphaville,
Derrick Morgan,
Prince Buster,
Jeff Lynne,
Shuggie Otis,
Organ,
Bobby Womack,
The Residents,
Jimmy McGriff,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Remains,
The Toasters,
Sister Nancy,
Rod Modell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Royal Trux,
David Bowie,
Gerry Rafferty,
KRS-One,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantytec,
The Doobie Brothers,
Groovy Waters,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.