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 Sudan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Shuggie Otis to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Mr. Review,
Kas Product,
Brick,
Aaron Thompson,
The Sonics,
Bob Dylan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eddi Front,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Au Pairs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Colin Newman,
Soft Machine,
Avey Tare,
Scion,
China Crisis,
Eurythmics,
Suicide,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eric Dolphy,
Matthew Bourne,
Morten Harket,
Cybotron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roy Ayers,
Scientists,
Organ,
Roxette,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
L. Decosne,
Wally Richardson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Skarface,
Ronan,
Rod Modell,
Deepchord,
Sam Rivers,
Graham Central Station,
Jacob Miller,
Janne Schatter,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Whodini,
New Order,
Judy Mowatt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Blues Magoos,
The Five Americans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Qualms,
Quando Quango,
Dennis Brown,
Tres Demented,
Liliput,
LL Cool J,
X-Ray Spex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.