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 Libya and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brand Nubian to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
U.S. Maple,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
Negative Approach,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eric Copeland,
Lakeside,
Bob Dylan,
Minny Pops,
Ornette Coleman,
Newcleus,
Susan Cadogan,
Niagra,
The Remains,
Laurel Aitken,
Wings,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Andrew Hill,
Au Pairs,
Accadde A,
Bobby Womack,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Royal Trux,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aural Exciters,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sister Nancy,
Can,
Barrington Levy,
Fear,
ABBA,
John Foxx,
Rapeman,
The Black Dice,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun Ra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fatback Band,
Erykah Badu,
Eric Dolphy,
Roxy Music,
F. McDonald,
Thompson Twins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Görl,
Wasted Youth,
The Kinks,
Babytalk,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tomorrow,
The Red Krayola,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Association,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pantytec,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.