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 Laos and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane 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 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 Urselle to the crunk 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Thompson Twins,
Negative Approach,
Delon & Dalcan,
Danielle Patucci,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Y Pants,
Radio Birdman,
The Smiths,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
David McCallum,
Erasure,
Bauhaus,
The New Christs,
Brothers Johnson,
Hot Snakes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Pus,
The Gladiators,
The Skatalites,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Victims,
D'Angelo,
Surgeon,
Wings,
Youth Brigade,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Camberwell Now,
Sarah Menescal,
Pulsallama,
Procol Harum,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Wyatt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
June Days,
Lungfish,
The Mojo Men,
U.S. Maple,
Joe Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soul Sonic Force,
Matthew Halsall,
X-Ray Spex,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Janne Schatter,
Hardrive,
Second Layer,
Minny Pops,
The Residents,
Schoolly D,
Sister Nancy,
Hashim,
The Pretty Things,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
Sällskapet,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.