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 Uruguay and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The J.B.'s to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blake Baxter,
The Monochrome Set,
Steve Hackett,
Crispy Ambulance,
Radio Birdman,
Roxette,
This Heat,
Icehouse,
Eve St. Jones,
the Bar-Kays,
The Selecter,
EPMD,
Soul II Soul,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Slits,
Nik Kershaw,
T. Rex,
Aswad,
Aloha Tigers,
Sam Rivers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tres Demented,
Boz Scaggs,
The Divine Comedy,
The Stooges,
Procol Harum,
Interpol,
Hasil Adkins,
Barbara Tucker,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
Slave,
Skaos,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yaz,
The Five Americans,
Archie Shepp,
The Knickerbockers,
the Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
Barrington Levy,
Glenn Branca,
Quadrant,
Accadde A,
Piero Umiliani,
Gichy Dan,
Man Parrish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Faraquet,
Tom Boy,
Byron Stingily,
Au Pairs,
The Wake,
Suburban Knight,
Subhumans,
Loose Ends,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.