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 Gambia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minnie Riperton to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Morten Harket,
Shoche,
Hoover,
Second Layer,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gil Scott Heron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Leaves,
Erasure,
The Smiths,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Al Stewart,
Parry Music,
The Names,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cowsills,
Amazonics,
The Raincoats,
X-102,
Jacob Miller,
The Red Krayola,
Bill Near,
The Detroit Cobras,
FM Einheit,
Absolute Body Control,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
D'Angelo,
X-Ray Spex,
the Fania All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rosa Yemen,
Chris Corsano,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Groovy Waters,
Popol Vuh,
Cal Tjader,
The Fall,
T.S.O.L.,
Easy Going,
Chrome,
Babytalk,
Funky Four + One,
John Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
Brass Construction,
Anakelly,
Sound Behaviour,
Kayak,
Duran Duran,
Silicon Teens,
The Star Department,
AZ,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Pus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.