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 Grenada and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Last Poets to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
CMW,
Index,
The Invisible,
The Grass Roots,
Television,
Intrusion,
Lower 48,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Bananas,
Gichy Dan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sam Rivers,
Marine Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Laurel Aitken,
Pulsallama,
Section 25,
Matthew Bourne,
Flash Fearless,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Age Steppers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Martian,
The Blues Magoos,
Porter Ricks,
Max Romeo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Zero Boys,
Fort Wilson Riot,
One Last Wish,
The Move,
Royal Trux,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Monks,
Severed Heads,
Blancmange,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stiv Bators,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Dawn Penn,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Christie,
Carl Craig,
Nick Fraelich,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Make Up,
Radiohead,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Monolake,
In Retrospect,
Country Teasers,
Young Marble Giants,
The Barracudas,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.