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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Hoover to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Kurtis Blow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nils Olav,
Man Parrish,
Amazonics,
Donald Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
These Immortal Souls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Gang Dance,
Saccharine Trust,
New Age Steppers,
The Trojans,
Freddie Wadling,
Mo-Dettes,
Deakin,
R.M.O.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jeff Mills,
The Happenings,
June of 44,
Erykah Badu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
KRS-One,
Desert Stars,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Offenders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hot Snakes,
Dave Gahan,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mummies,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra,
Newcleus,
Morten Harket,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
B.T. Express,
DJ Style,
Quantec,
the Association,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Grass Roots,
Wire,
Suburban Knight,
ABC,
Depeche Mode,
Laurel Aitken,
The Kinks,
Lalann,
DJ Sneak,
Eli Mardock,
Outsiders,
Marc Almond,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Sherman,
The Angels of Light,
the Germs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.