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 Tonga and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Metal Thangz to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Age Steppers,
Hoover,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sarah Menescal,
MDC,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harry Pussy,
Judy Mowatt,
Masters at Work,
Anakelly,
Dave Gahan,
The Dirtbombs,
Mission of Burma,
Erasure,
UT,
Angry Samoans,
Ituana,
Theoretical Girls,
Radiohead,
The Misunderstood,
Rapeman,
The Remains,
Television,
Tears for Fears,
David Bowie,
Bad Manners,
Nirvana,
Nas,
Yaz,
The Electric Prunes,
MC5,
the Slits,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Certain Ratio,
In Retrospect,
the Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Spandau Ballet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Half Japanese,
The Gories,
Barbara Tucker,
Urselle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed,
The Tremeloes,
Oneida,
James White and The Blacks,
Neu!,
Groovy Waters,
Guru Guru,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.