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 Angola and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Soft Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eric Dolphy,
Grauzone,
X-102,
Bauhaus,
Kayak,
Joy Division,
John Foxx,
Trumans Water,
June Days,
MC5,
Warsaw,
Mandrill,
Avey Tare,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Holt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pulsallama,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
Harry Pussy,
Lower 48,
Cymande,
Joey Negro,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Al Stewart,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Womack,
Circle Jerks,
Marvin Gaye,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yellowson,
K-Klass,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Cell,
Nas,
The Blues Magoos,
Stiv Bators,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Offenders,
Gichy Dan,
The United States of America,
Quadrant,
The Grass Roots,
Drive Like Jehu,
Procol Harum,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Los Fastidios,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.