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 Estonia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator 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 Marshall Jefferson to the punk 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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Isaac Hayes,
Sight & Sound,
Rakim,
Camouflage,
Crash Course in Science,
Suicide,
The Saints,
The Sonics,
The Cramps,
Erasure,
David Axelrod,
Mr. Review,
Con Funk Shun,
Public Enemy,
Quando Quango,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Prince Buster,
David McCallum,
World's Most,
Eric B and Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
Theoretical Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
Mark Hollis,
Aural Exciters,
The Dead C,
Fear,
E-Dancer,
Television Personalities,
10cc,
Mad Mike,
Amazonics,
Todd Rundgren,
Yaz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Goldenarms,
Fatback Band,
Second Layer,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soul II Soul,
Sixth Finger,
The Martian,
The Shadows of Knight,
Franke,
Yellowson,
Black Moon,
Moby Grape,
Wire,
the Normal,
Juan Atkins,
The Five Americans,
June Days,
Soulsonic Force,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.