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 Philippines and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gang Green to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop 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?
Gang of Four,
The Velvet Underground,
Talk Talk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Camberwell Now,
The Techniques,
The Gladiators,
Nation of Ulysses,
Al Stewart,
Magma,
Barbara Tucker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faust,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sällskapet,
Brothers Johnson,
Soft Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
Bob Dylan,
Joensuu 1685,
Nas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Stooges,
Mr. Review,
Yellowson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Simply Red,
Khruangbin,
Kurtis Blow,
The Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gong,
Cluster,
the Sonics,
Slick Rick,
Con Funk Shun,
The Move,
Symarip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sandy B,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mandrill,
Prince Buster,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-102,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Moleskins,
Jacques Brel,
Eli Mardock,
Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
the Human League,
Siglo XX,
Lalann,
Bluetip,
8 Eyed Spy,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.