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 Glasgow.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 New Order to the grunge 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a spring reverb 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 harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Beau Brummels,
Newcleus,
Tears for Fears,
The Knickerbockers,
Deakin,
Dorothy Ashby,
June of 44,
Depeche Mode,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roger Hodgson,
Severed Heads,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lyres,
Pylon,
Freddie Wadling,
Joe Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
The Trojans,
Ice-T,
D'Angelo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Index,
kango's stein massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul II Soul,
Underground Resistance,
Al Stewart,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Saccharine Trust,
Pussy Galore,
Agitation Free,
Sparks,
Drexciya,
David Axelrod,
Wally Richardson,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
The Searchers,
B.T. Express,
Ultra Naté,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fugs,
Pantaleimon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monochrome Set,
Mars,
Joe Finger,
Aswad,
Liliput,
Delta 5,
Lucky Dragons,
Peter and Kerry,
X-102,
Chrome,
Nas,
Oblivians,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.