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 Mozambique and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mo-Dettes to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Cheater Slicks,
Crooked Eye,
Crash Course in Science,
The Blues Magoos,
Al Stewart,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scratch Acid,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joey Negro,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hardrive,
Schoolly D,
The Star Department,
Brick,
Adolescents,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gong,
Matthew Bourne,
Aural Exciters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Whodini,
X-101,
Black Sheep,
Amazonics,
Wasted Youth,
John Cale,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
Althea and Donna,
Kayak,
Reagan Youth,
The Moleskins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cecil Taylor,
Peter & Gordon,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
Monks,
Fear,
Slave,
Archie Shepp,
Blake Baxter,
Radiopuhelimet,
Supertramp,
The Slits,
Radiohead,
Index,
Gang of Four,
Freddie Wadling,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Livin' Joy,
Kerri Chandler,
Easy Going,
Jesper Dahlback,
Davy DMX,
Mandrill,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.