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 Switzerland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the 808 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 Gichy Dan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Cameo,
Morten Harket,
Porter Ricks,
Loose Ends,
Radio Birdman,
Subhumans,
Soul Sonic Force,
E-Dancer,
Country Teasers,
Zero Boys,
Wings,
Stiv Bators,
Charles Mingus,
The Raincoats,
Tres Demented,
Dual Sessions,
The Electric Prunes,
Whodini,
The Doors,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wolf Eyes,
Audionom,
Fat Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
World's Most,
The Leaves,
Lyres,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Steve Hackett,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Con Funk Shun,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Sheep,
Sparks,
D'Angelo,
This Heat,
Laurel Aitken,
Minnie Riperton,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Theoretical Girls,
Faraquet,
cv313,
The Human League,
John Cale,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Freddie Wadling,
The Blues Magoos,
Rakim,
Nirvana,
Inner City,
Negative Approach,
Magma,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.