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 Malta and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Oblivians to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Sex Pistols,
Amazonics,
Tom Boy,
The Trojans,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Derrick Morgan,
Deadbeat,
Jerry's Kids,
The Associates,
Roy Ayers,
The Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tubeway Army,
Glambeats Corp.,
Simply Red,
Khruangbin,
Echospace,
Nirvana,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Sun Ra,
John Foxx,
The Raincoats,
Section 25,
Robert Hood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Avey Tare,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ronan,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott Heron,
Index,
Delon & Dalcan,
Con Funk Shun,
Dawn Penn,
Buzzcocks,
Faust,
Animal Collective,
The Black Dice,
Nas,
Talk Talk,
Black Sheep,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mission of Burma,
The Real Kids,
Vainqueur,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Junior Murvin,
The Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
New York Dolls,
Vladislav Delay,
Camberwell Now,
Cymande,
Television Personalities,
Crash Course in Science,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bluetip,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.