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 Sudan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Eric Copeland to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Parry Music,
Warsaw,
MDC,
Peter and Kerry,
Sex Pistols,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeff Mills,
The Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
Franke,
Flipper,
The Monks,
Kurtis Blow,
Moss Icon,
Derrick Morgan,
Mark Hollis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Delon & Dalcan,
Essential Logic,
Rufus Thomas,
Tears for Fears,
Dual Sessions,
Dave Gahan,
Fad Gadget,
Juan Atkins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sister Nancy,
The Sonics,
The Saints,
T. Rex,
The Mummies,
The Dead C,
Newcleus,
Minutemen,
Los Fastidios,
The Kinks,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Almond,
Kerrie Biddell,
Chris Corsano,
Model 500,
Ultravox,
Con Funk Shun,
Surgeon,
Basic Channel,
Brass Construction,
Boredoms,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Electric Prunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Evens,
The Invisible,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wings,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.