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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez 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 The Alarm Clocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Aloha Tigers,
Dawn Penn,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Durutti Column,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
B.T. Express,
Newcleus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Flag,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roger Hodgson,
Bad Manners,
Jacques Brel,
Barclay James Harvest,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Sonics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Young Rascals,
Bill Near,
48th St. Collective,
Soft Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Zero Boys,
The Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Divine Comedy,
Altered Images,
The Seeds,
Average White Band,
Radio Birdman,
Royal Trux,
Metal Thangz,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
Harry Pussy,
Aural Exciters,
The Gun Club,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultravox,
Clear Light,
Pere Ubu,
Can,
Rhythm & Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Carl Craig,
Radiohead,
Jeff Mills,
Wally Richardson,
Howard Jones,
Steve Hackett,
Babytalk,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.