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 Spain and from London.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Aural Exciters,
Idris Muhammad,
Goldenarms,
Can,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scratch Acid,
These Immortal Souls,
Judy Mowatt,
Kurtis Blow,
Scan 7,
Man Parrish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rapeman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Arcadia,
The Moleskins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oneida,
Connie Case,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fuzztones,
Cybotron,
The Zeros,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bob Dylan,
Don Cherry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eric Dolphy,
Lyres,
Porter Ricks,
Section 25,
The Moody Blues,
The Sound,
Scott Walker,
Suicide,
Patti Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marmalade,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül,
Subhumans,
Ludus,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stetsasonic,
Kayak,
Alice Coltrane,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacob Miller,
Magazine,
Matthew Bourne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Christie,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.