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 Solomon Islands and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
Jawbox,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Offenders,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
Man Parrish,
The Gap Band,
Animal Collective,
Neil Young,
Soft Machine,
Kas Product,
The Blackbyrds,
Matthew Bourne,
John Foxx,
Scan 7,
Goldenarms,
Dark Day,
The Gories,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
KRS-One,
Suicide,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dual Sessions,
Sandy B,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Axelrod,
New Order,
Pagans,
Cluster,
Reuben Wilson,
Wire,
The Skatalites,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gabor Szabo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Steve Hackett,
Babytalk,
Aloha Tigers,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül II,
Bush Tetras,
Dennis Brown,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
UT,
Monolake,
Kurtis Blow,
Mr. Review,
Aural Exciters,
Liliput,
48th St. Collective,
B.T. Express,
Television Personalities,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Happenings,
Malaria!,
Ronnie Foster,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.