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 Guinea-Bissau and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Quantec to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
The Durutti Column,
Glenn Branca,
Moby Grape,
Susan Cadogan,
Barrington Levy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camouflage,
The Shadows of Knight,
Newcleus,
D'Angelo,
Cameo,
Unrelated Segments,
Neil Young,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Idris Muhammad,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joyce Sims,
The Misunderstood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Görl,
Fela Kuti,
Minor Threat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The American Breed,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
Zero Boys,
Oneida,
The Saints,
Ken Boothe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mark Hollis,
the Normal,
The Monochrome Set,
Section 25,
the Association,
Peter and Kerry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moody Blues,
Cybotron,
Hot Snakes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roxette,
Scion,
The Names,
The Real Kids,
Severed Heads,
Gabor Szabo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skriet,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Wyatt,
Masters at Work,
Radiopuhelimet,
Can,
Eddi Front,
Los Fastidios,
kango's stein massive,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.