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 Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Shuggie Otis to the electroclash 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Television Personalities,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Near,
Faraquet,
Darondo,
The Tremeloes,
Monolake,
Eve St. Jones,
Trumans Water,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Drexciya,
Au Pairs,
Brothers Johnson,
The Searchers,
The Associates,
Tears for Fears,
David McCallum,
Cymande,
Nik Kershaw,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sarah Menescal,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
H. Thieme,
Dennis Brown,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Buzzcocks,
The Angels of Light,
Electric Prunes,
Sugar Minott,
Newcleus,
Duran Duran,
Nick Fraelich,
Los Fastidios,
The Residents,
Agent Orange,
The Birthday Party,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joensuu 1685,
Minny Pops,
The Evens,
Mark Hollis,
Dawn Penn,
Nirvana,
Bang On A Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Susan Cadogan,
Popol Vuh,
New York Dolls,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fatback Band,
The Invisible,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joy Division,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.