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 Mauritania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Donald Byrd to the dance 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Saccharine Trust,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Pus,
Moss Icon,
T. Rex,
Negative Approach,
The Toasters,
The Monochrome Set,
Second Layer,
Bad Manners,
Johnny Clarke,
Electric Prunes,
Marine Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spoonie Gee,
The Names,
Dual Sessions,
The Smoke,
Howard Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Charles Mingus,
Quando Quango,
Susan Cadogan,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
Hoover,
Cheater Slicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dirtbombs,
Porter Ricks,
Crooked Eye,
Royal Trux,
Junior Murvin,
Mo-Dettes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pere Ubu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lakeside,
KRS-One,
DJ Style,
Toni Rubio,
Can,
Nils Olav,
Bill Near,
Massinfluence,
Matthew Bourne,
Darondo,
The Blues Magoos,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Depeche Mode,
Audionom,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Associates,
Joyce Sims,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
F. McDonald,
James White and The Blacks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Urselle,
Metal Thangz,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.