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 East Timor and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Oppenheimer Analysis 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Yazoo,
Ultravox,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sonny Sharrock,
Judy Mowatt,
Masters at Work,
Slave,
Visage,
Rekid,
Wolf Eyes,
Chrome,
Marine Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Selecter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobby Womack,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Cale,
Pussy Galore,
The Vogues,
Mantronix,
The United States of America,
Erykah Badu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry's Kids,
Scrapy,
The Associates,
The Offenders,
Wally Richardson,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gabor Szabo,
Mission of Burma,
Connie Case,
Alton Ellis,
Audionom,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Terry,
Skaos,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Echospace,
Nico,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Remains,
The Skatalites,
Leonard Cohen,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Trojans,
Hasil Adkins,
Motorama,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.