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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Moody Blues to the rap 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Todd Rundgren,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Oneida,
Ken Boothe,
The Selecter,
Easy Going,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Negative Approach,
Supertramp,
F. McDonald,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Agitation Free,
Moss Icon,
Suburban Knight,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Sherman,
Interpol,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacques Brel,
Archie Shepp,
AZ,
Ronnie Foster,
Tears for Fears,
Drexciya,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Slits,
David Axelrod,
Scan 7,
The Skatalites,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Gun Club,
Spandau Ballet,
Lucky Dragons,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Letta Mbulu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Das Ding,
Clear Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Niagra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
Boogie Down Productions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monks,
The Tremeloes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siglo XX,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deadbeat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Depeche Mode,
Section 25,
Leonard Cohen,
Second Layer,
The Misunderstood,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.