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 Sweden and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
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 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 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 Tears for Fears to the rap 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Negative Approach,
X-102,
The Count Five,
Althea and Donna,
The Names,
The Raincoats,
Brand Nubian,
Eurythmics,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Womack,
D'Angelo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eric Dolphy,
Soft Machine,
New Order,
Marmalade,
Black Flag,
Ultravox,
Rotary Connection,
Funky Four + One,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun Ra,
Harry Pussy,
EPMD,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-101,
Gang Gang Dance,
Moby Grape,
New York Dolls,
The United States of America,
Tropical Tobacco,
Goldenarms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Görl,
The Stooges,
In Retrospect,
Unrelated Segments,
Erykah Badu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minutemen,
ABC,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mummies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ludus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Hasil Adkins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fugazi,
The Young Rascals,
Lower 48,
Rapeman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soulsonic Force,
Bush Tetras,
Joyce Sims,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül II,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.