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 Japan and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gap Band to the punk 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Make Up,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Byrd,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blake Baxter,
Reuben Wilson,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Index,
Sun Ra,
Matthew Bourne,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
The Star Department,
Lakeside,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Barracudas,
Colin Newman,
Yazoo,
Los Fastidios,
Quadrant,
Nico,
Y Pants,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stetsasonic,
The Slackers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Copeland,
Donny Hathaway,
Theoretical Girls,
Liliput,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cal Tjader,
China Crisis,
Sex Pistols,
Jacob Miller,
Wire,
Bronski Beat,
Eve St. Jones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Japan,
Brothers Johnson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fugs,
Average White Band,
Roxette,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Easy Going,
Shoche,
Panda Bear,
Pere Ubu,
Royal Trux,
Basic Channel,
Grey Daturas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.