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 Slovenia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Minnie Riperton to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Barbara Tucker,
Supertramp,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alice Coltrane,
Stetsasonic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Near,
Japan,
Newcleus,
The Martian,
The Gories,
Joe Smooth,
Traffic Nightmare,
T.S.O.L.,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hashim,
Marvin Gaye,
Bauhaus,
Underground Resistance,
Monolake,
Crooked Eye,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Black Dice,
The Index,
Faust,
ABC,
The Raincoats,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Godley & Creme,
Sister Nancy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shoche,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Silicon Teens,
Animal Collective,
Radiohead,
Don Cherry,
The Real Kids,
The Trojans,
Tim Buckley,
Camberwell Now,
Minutemen,
Ultimate Spinach,
Circle Jerks,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Lynne,
The Selecter,
Derrick May,
K-Klass,
Royal Trux,
Mad Mike,
Yellowson,
Barclay James Harvest,
James White and The Blacks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.