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 Cyprus and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 disco 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
the Normal,
Minor Threat,
Harmonia,
a-ha,
Connie Case,
B.T. Express,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bluetip,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roy Ayers,
The Last Poets,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Reed,
Ossler,
X-Ray Spex,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brand Nubian,
The Knickerbockers,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Womack,
Visage,
The Trojans,
Joensuu 1685,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Flipper,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Holt,
Clear Light,
Minnie Riperton,
The Index,
Morten Harket,
Crime,
Scion,
The Gladiators,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Green,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Busters,
The Music Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Monks,
Monolake,
Von Mondo,
Tres Demented,
Iggy Pop,
Wings,
Rites of Spring,
Rod Modell,
Alphaville,
Average White Band,
Cameo,
New Order,
The Real Kids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maurizio,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.