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 Seychelles and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Robert Palmer 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 The Tremeloes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Grass Roots,
F. McDonald,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Golliwogs,
Terry Callier,
Thee Headcoats,
Magazine,
Rod Modell,
Accadde A,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Goldenarms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Moody Blues,
Joe Finger,
the Normal,
Arthur Verocai,
D'Angelo,
June Days,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fuzztones,
Erykah Badu,
Hot Snakes,
These Immortal Souls,
Warren Ellis,
The Sonics,
The Motions,
The Mojo Men,
Smog,
The Move,
Organ,
Erasure,
Nirvana,
Lightning Bolt,
K-Klass,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Icehouse,
Aural Exciters,
Neu!,
Yazoo,
cv313,
The Blues Magoos,
Sight & Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Fela Kuti,
PIL,
Siglo XX,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Teasers,
John Lydon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Searchers,
Harry Pussy,
The Zeros,
Bobby Byrd,
Niagra,
The Young Rascals,
Danielle Patucci,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brass Construction,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.