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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Vladislav Delay to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Joy Division,
Sound Behaviour,
Audionom,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
the Bar-Kays,
Eurythmics,
Eli Mardock,
Bootsy Collins,
Pere Ubu,
ABC,
Delta 5,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cymande,
Donny Hathaway,
Roxy Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sonny Sharrock,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pharoah Sanders,
Funky Four + One,
Parry Music,
the Swans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ituana,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aural Exciters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kool Moe Dee,
E-Dancer,
Saccharine Trust,
Cybotron,
Matthew Bourne,
Todd Rundgren,
Aaron Thompson,
Circle Jerks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Surgeon,
The Remains,
Anakelly,
cv313,
Rotary Connection,
John Lydon,
Nick Fraelich,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Swell Maps,
The Victims,
Graham Central Station,
Roxette,
The Modern Lovers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Zapp,
The Black Dice,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
KRS-One,
Quadrant,
Al Stewart,
Supertramp,
Masters at Work,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.