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 Liberia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Eve St. Jones to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
The Black Dice,
Roger Hodgson,
The Buckinghams,
Little Man,
X-101,
The Detroit Cobras,
June Days,
Soul Sonic Force,
Monolake,
Al Stewart,
The Wake,
Severed Heads,
Basic Channel,
Wally Richardson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marmalade,
Trumans Water,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Junior Murvin,
Morten Harket,
Urselle,
Q and Not U,
Scion,
Amazonics,
the Human League,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
MC5,
Danielle Patucci,
Crooked Eye,
Dennis Brown,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
Oneida,
The Vogues,
Barrington Levy,
Radio Birdman,
Lakeside,
Ice-T,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Johnny Osbourne,
FM Einheit,
The Techniques,
Colin Newman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
Bad Manners,
Avey Tare,
Ronnie Foster,
Tomorrow,
Lyres,
CMW,
The Moleskins,
Scan 7,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxy Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.