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 Mauritius and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin 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 Severed Heads to the jazz 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Ultra Naté,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cheater Slicks,
Freddie Wadling,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Bananas,
Isaac Hayes,
Deepchord,
The United States of America,
D'Angelo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Bar-Kays,
Fat Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marmalade,
Matthew Bourne,
The Red Krayola,
Sparks,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Motions,
Bob Dylan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Leaves,
X-101,
Todd Terry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sandy B,
Sunsets and Hearts,
CMW,
The Trojans,
Model 500,
Goldenarms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Symarip,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Womack,
Scrapy,
The Slackers,
Joey Negro,
Connie Case,
Peter and Kerry,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
Groovy Waters,
Simply Red,
Minutemen,
Los Fastidios,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Babytalk,
Scott Walker,
Loose Ends,
Das Ding,
The Gladiators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Procol Harum,
Sam Rivers,
Make Up,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.