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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 Tears for Fears to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
Shoche,
Magazine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Young Rascals,
This Heat,
UT,
Banda Bassotti,
Lucky Dragons,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
The Doors,
Smog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alton Ellis,
Bad Manners,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun City Girls,
Black Flag,
Jeff Mills,
Y Pants,
Niagra,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pylon,
T.S.O.L.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Colin Newman,
Quando Quango,
T. Rex,
The Stooges,
Electric Prunes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Selecter,
Maurizio,
The Real Kids,
Los Fastidios,
The United States of America,
Radiopuhelimet,
Toni Rubio,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter & Gordon,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Terry,
Surgeon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marc Almond,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultravox,
Harry Pussy,
Shuggie Otis,
Pagans,
Amon Düül II,
The Skatalites,
ABC,
Television Personalities,
Easy Going,
Bush Tetras,
Aural Exciters,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.