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 United States and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 June of 44 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ice-T,
Vainqueur,
Crime,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fear,
The Durutti Column,
Arthur Verocai,
Arab on Radar,
The Dead C,
Spandau Ballet,
Funkadelic,
Brothers Johnson,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Eli Mardock,
Surgeon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Heaven 17,
Smog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Gang Dance,
UT,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
The Human League,
Deadbeat,
Flamin' Groovies,
Charles Mingus,
Godley & Creme,
The Smiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Byrd,
Chrome,
Organ,
Iggy Pop,
Qualms,
The Sonics,
The Velvet Underground,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maleditus Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Oblivians,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
B.T. Express,
Harry Pussy,
Letta Mbulu,
Con Funk Shun,
Amon Düül,
Bootsy Collins,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Reed,
Visage,
Skarface,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radio Birdman,
Scan 7,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Loose Ends,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.