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 Mongolia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the funk 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Howard Jones,
Country Teasers,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
The Saints,
Moby Grape,
Basic Channel,
The Slits,
The Real Kids,
Brand Nubian,
Subhumans,
Marmalade,
The Moleskins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Robert Görl,
Inner City,
Cymande,
Tomorrow,
Bill Wells,
Joyce Sims,
Intrusion,
T. Rex,
The Velvet Underground,
Fad Gadget,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Sherman,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Foxx,
Ponytail,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
New Age Steppers,
Guru Guru,
Popol Vuh,
Patti Smith,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nils Olav,
Dark Day,
Girls At Our Best!,
Liliput,
The Seeds,
Deepchord,
Kurtis Blow,
Funky Four + One,
Zero Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Amon Düül II,
Soulsonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
Saccharine Trust,
The Names,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
Groovy Waters,
Gabor Szabo,
Aaron Thompson,
The Motions,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Steve Hackett,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.