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 Venezuela and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Absolute Body Control 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mummies,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camberwell Now,
Soft Machine,
Gang Green,
Graham Central Station,
Arab on Radar,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
MDC,
The Music Machine,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fuzztones,
The Real Kids,
Cybotron,
Mission of Burma,
Idris Muhammad,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barrington Levy,
Hasil Adkins,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang of Four,
The Seeds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pussy Galore,
Little Man,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sam Rivers,
Mars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Young Rascals,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Toasters,
Hoover,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tomorrow,
Yusef Lateef,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scan 7,
Davy DMX,
Chrome,
Groovy Waters,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smoke,
Patti Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
The Tremeloes,
Pagans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Michelle Simonal,
Magazine,
Soul II Soul,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dual Sessions,
Roy Ayers,
Saccharine Trust,
Dead Boys,
Morten Harket,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.