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 Cambodia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marc Almond to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Bourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scan 7,
Dave Gahan,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
Japan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amazonics,
Swans,
OOIOO,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slave,
Scientists,
Mr. Review,
Make Up,
The Techniques,
Wings,
the Swans,
Crime,
Simply Red,
The Misunderstood,
The J.B.'s,
The Knickerbockers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Duran Duran,
Essential Logic,
The Litter,
Organ,
Excepter,
The Fugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Freddie Wadling,
Erasure,
Crispy Ambulance,
Main Source,
Eurythmics,
CMW,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
Hardrive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Shoche,
Bluetip,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Angels of Light,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Selecter,
Mad Mike,
James White and The Blacks,
Spandau Ballet,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.