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 Congo and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Mr. Review to the jazz 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Byrd,
Severed Heads,
Aural Exciters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lakeside,
the Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Age Steppers,
Circle Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
The Count Five,
Massinfluence,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Goldenarms,
Oblivians,
Susan Cadogan,
Matthew Halsall,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Minutemen,
Josef K,
Youth Brigade,
Pagans,
Neil Young,
Soul Sonic Force,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Techniques,
Subhumans,
Rites of Spring,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fela Kuti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Busters,
The Gories,
The Monks,
Parry Music,
Scientists,
X-102,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marmalade,
T. Rex,
Clear Light,
Lebanon Hanover,
Swell Maps,
The Black Dice,
Procol Harum,
Camouflage,
Depeche Mode,
Au Pairs,
Joe Finger,
Yusef Lateef,
The American Breed,
Inner City,
Eli Mardock,
Roxy Music,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.