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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Donald Byrd to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rapeman,
Barrington Levy,
June Days,
The Five Americans,
Sun City Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Scientists,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zapp,
Mad Mike,
Ponytail,
Fear,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Bananas,
Pere Ubu,
Banda Bassotti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ossler,
Grauzone,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tomorrow,
Kerri Chandler,
Minnie Riperton,
The American Breed,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Absolute Body Control,
Gichy Dan,
Rakim,
Chrome,
Minny Pops,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Al Stewart,
Delon & Dalcan,
The United States of America,
Zero Boys,
Fat Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smiths,
James White and The Blacks,
The Vogues,
The New Christs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stetsasonic,
Wire,
Sällskapet,
Fela Kuti,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pop Group,
The Happenings,
Kayak,
Rod Modell,
A Certain Ratio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultravox,
The Cramps,
The Techniques,
Heaven 17,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.