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 Sweden and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Black Dice to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Monks,
Blancmange,
Quadrant,
Flash Fearless,
The J.B.'s,
Barrington Levy,
UT,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lower 48,
Magazine,
Sixth Finger,
This Heat,
The Durutti Column,
Sister Nancy,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dead C,
Scratch Acid,
Youth Brigade,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
Yellowson,
The Pretty Things,
the Fania All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
The Remains,
10cc,
Sparks,
Robert Görl,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Pop Group,
Yaz,
The Golliwogs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Aswad,
Michelle Simonal,
Derrick May,
Eric Dolphy,
The Slackers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fatback Band,
The Kinks,
The Buckinghams,
Ponytail,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Model 500,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
Hot Snakes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wally Richardson,
David Axelrod,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper,
Carl Craig,
The New Christs,
The Gladiators,
Peter & Gordon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jerry's Kids,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.