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 Kyrgyzstan and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Urselle 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
The Motions,
Desert Stars,
Harmonia,
Bush Tetras,
World's Most,
Danielle Patucci,
Marvin Gaye,
Pierre Henry,
The Cure,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Flag,
The Beau Brummels,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Last Poets,
Jacob Miller,
Deepchord,
DNA,
E-Dancer,
Minutemen,
Yaz,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grey Daturas,
The Blackbyrds,
Bronski Beat,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang of Four,
Country Teasers,
Inner City,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fluxion,
B.T. Express,
Chris Corsano,
The Sound,
The Black Dice,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mantronix,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Letta Mbulu,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Standells,
The Real Kids,
Joey Negro,
Clear Light,
Con Funk Shun,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Barracudas,
Cecil Taylor,
The Grass Roots,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gang Starr,
Skriet,
Rosa Yemen,
Echospace,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Parrish,
the Sonics,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.