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 Barbados and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Porter Ricks to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Scan 7,
Interpol,
Sight & Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Swans,
the Association,
Dark Day,
Skarface,
Supertramp,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Slits,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dual Sessions,
Animal Collective,
Gang Green,
The Move,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
PIL,
The Divine Comedy,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dead C,
The Busters,
Tres Demented,
The Fortunes,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Terry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mojo Men,
The Motions,
Urselle,
The Fall,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nico,
Radio Birdman,
Darondo,
OOIOO,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brick,
Marine Girls,
Bad Manners,
Freddie Wadling,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Symarip,
Dawn Penn,
Gil Scott Heron,
Isaac Hayes,
Ohio Players,
World's Most,
The Techniques,
The Modern Lovers,
Scott Walker,
The Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Ice-T,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.