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 Luxembourg and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe 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 Mad Mike to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slave,
The Martian,
Pharoah Sanders,
Severed Heads,
John Foxx,
David Axelrod,
Lou Christie,
Camberwell Now,
Fear,
The Motions,
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
The Offenders,
8 Eyed Spy,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp,
Los Fastidios,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pussy Galore,
Boz Scaggs,
The Divine Comedy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jacob Miller,
Au Pairs,
Rekid,
Junior Murvin,
Amazonics,
Vainqueur,
Boredoms,
The Trojans,
Sight & Sound,
Black Flag,
L. Decosne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Womack,
Minny Pops,
Model 500,
Radio Birdman,
Jacques Brel,
The Star Department,
The Real Kids,
Arab on Radar,
Grey Daturas,
Pole,
Eddi Front,
The Gladiators,
The Mummies,
Aural Exciters,
One Last Wish,
The Raincoats,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skarface,
Monolake,
Arthur Verocai,
Tim Buckley,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.