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 India and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eden Ahbez 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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Malaria!,
Wasted Youth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
The Kinks,
Masters at Work,
Cheater Slicks,
The Blackbyrds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Supertramp,
Junior Murvin,
AZ,
Visage,
The Index,
Flamin' Groovies,
Talk Talk,
Ultra Naté,
Shuggie Otis,
EPMD,
Prince Buster,
Ludus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mark Hollis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Leonard Cohen,
Slave,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echospace,
June of 44,
The Grass Roots,
Dennis Brown,
X-102,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Warsaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radiohead,
UT,
Bill Near,
The Searchers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mantronix,
Minnie Riperton,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper,
Los Fastidios,
K-Klass,
The Fortunes,
Franke,
T. Rex,
Darondo,
Radio Birdman,
Q65,
The Angels of Light,
Groovy Waters,
Metal Thangz,
Kerri Chandler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Silicon Teens,
Deakin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.