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 Uganda and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jeff Lynne to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Ice-T,
kango's stein massive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kayak,
ABBA,
Graham Central Station,
the Slits,
Spandau Ballet,
cv313,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Associates,
Howard Jones,
Cal Tjader,
The Black Dice,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Byrd,
Soulsonic Force,
Fat Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Christie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June of 44,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dead Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Thee Headcoats,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Warren Ellis,
Roxy Music,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fire Engines,
a-ha,
Drexciya,
These Immortal Souls,
Bauhaus,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gories,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brothers Johnson,
Average White Band,
Bush Tetras,
Flipper,
Lower 48,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bill Near,
Organ,
Dual Sessions,
The Techniques,
Arthur Verocai,
The Barracudas,
Camberwell Now,
Section 25,
Theoretical Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Outsiders,
Altered Images,
The Evens,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.