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 Rwanda and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 One Last Wish to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
T. Rex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quantec,
The Neon Judgement,
Maurizio,
Soft Cell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Zapp,
The Moody Blues,
Kurtis Blow,
Glenn Branca,
Funkadelic,
Audionom,
Shoche,
Kerri Chandler,
U.S. Maple,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hoover,
Lakeside,
The Star Department,
Von Mondo,
Donald Byrd,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cybotron,
Angry Samoans,
The Busters,
Minnie Riperton,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mars,
Nico,
Schoolly D,
Sam Rivers,
The Pretty Things,
Loose Ends,
The Fortunes,
The Selecter,
Sun City Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Fraelich,
This Heat,
Blossom Toes,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Saints,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABBA,
Roxy Music,
A Certain Ratio,
Josef K,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Howard Jones,
John Foxx,
New Age Steppers,
Dark Day,
The Invisible,
Cheater Slicks,
Scan 7,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yaz,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.