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 Sierra Leone and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Stetsasonic to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Kaleidoscope,
Connie Case,
Ponytail,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dave Clark Five,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Young Marble Giants,
Khruangbin,
Michelle Simonal,
Country Teasers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Mills,
Supertramp,
Adolescents,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Count Five,
Gichy Dan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Christie,
Joensuu 1685,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Zeros,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hot Snakes,
Donald Byrd,
Radiohead,
Swans,
Malaria!,
Suicide,
Duran Duran,
Yusef Lateef,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Holt,
Mo-Dettes,
Brick,
John Cale,
Sparks,
Ken Boothe,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Seeds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bang On A Can,
Big Daddy Kane,
Essential Logic,
Lakeside,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kayak,
Johnny Clarke,
The Tremeloes,
The Litter,
Scott Walker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.