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 Barbados and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 New Age Steppers to the electroclash 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Gong,
Minnie Riperton,
The Star Department,
Unrelated Segments,
The Martian,
Rod Modell,
Henry Cow,
Livin' Joy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Index,
Eurythmics,
The Moody Blues,
Wally Richardson,
Oneida,
Popol Vuh,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Little Man,
The Remains,
The Cure,
Excepter,
Nas,
Joe Smooth,
Fad Gadget,
Q and Not U,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Urselle,
Toni Rubio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Guru Guru,
Smog,
Underground Resistance,
Eden Ahbez,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scan 7,
Derrick May,
Bill Wells,
Skarface,
Pylon,
Pussy Galore,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Donald Byrd,
The Young Rascals,
Al Stewart,
Liliput,
Porter Ricks,
Nick Fraelich,
Masters at Work,
Bang On A Can,
Roxy Music,
Traffic Nightmare,
K-Klass,
Crooked Eye,
Alice Coltrane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bush Tetras,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Neil Young,
Angry Samoans,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.