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 Mozambique and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Funkadelic to the dance 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Gabor Szabo,
Tears for Fears,
Lower 48,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blancmange,
The Trojans,
Q65,
Steve Hackett,
Aaron Thompson,
Rites of Spring,
The Residents,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mandrill,
Derrick May,
David McCallum,
Minnie Riperton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Robert Hood,
The Durutti Column,
Pagans,
The Selecter,
ABBA,
Joensuu 1685,
The Blackbyrds,
The Saints,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pantaleimon,
Mo-Dettes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Amon Düül,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roxy Music,
Neil Young,
The Seeds,
Sixth Finger,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Technova,
The Fortunes,
Colin Newman,
Ice-T,
Grauzone,
Bobby Byrd,
Blake Baxter,
Man Parrish,
The Velvet Underground,
Circle Jerks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Star Department,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Halsall,
Suicide,
X-102,
John Coltrane,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultra Naté,
Todd Terry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.