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 Samoa and from London.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Slackers to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Brick,
Jacob Miller,
Talk Talk,
Oneida,
Hot Snakes,
Kaleidoscope,
Chris Corsano,
Howard Jones,
Delta 5,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Anakelly,
Derrick May,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Traffic Nightmare,
The J.B.'s,
the Normal,
Glambeats Corp.,
Erykah Badu,
Harmonia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ultravox,
Intrusion,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kayak,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeff Lynne,
New York Dolls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Funkadelic,
Niagra,
The Skatalites,
The Birthday Party,
The Electric Prunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Hood,
Tom Boy,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Byrd,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
the Association,
John Lydon,
Don Cherry,
Quantec,
Angry Samoans,
The Cure,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Offenders,
Piero Umiliani,
Thompson Twins,
Henry Cow,
Camberwell Now,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.