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 Korea South and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kaleidoscope to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Bronski Beat,
Black Moon,
Piero Umiliani,
Ken Boothe,
Negative Approach,
Television,
Idris Muhammad,
Gichy Dan,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Byrd,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Matthew Bourne,
Eurythmics,
The Music Machine,
Rekid,
the Normal,
Morten Harket,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Five Americans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Juan Atkins,
Frankie Knuckles,
L. Decosne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mummies,
the Soft Cell,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Kinks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wings,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Coltrane,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Royal Trux,
Toni Rubio,
OOIOO,
Technova,
B.T. Express,
Visage,
Harry Pussy,
Prince Buster,
Anakelly,
Joe Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faraquet,
Yusef Lateef,
Mars,
The American Breed,
Tears for Fears,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy Collins,
Amon Düül II,
Todd Rundgren,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Hood,
Byron Stingily,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.