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 Brunei and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Scratch Acid to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Infiniti,
The Fugs,
Lungfish,
Fela Kuti,
The Grass Roots,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
New York Dolls,
Flipper,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gladiators,
Kaleidoscope,
The Martian,
Icehouse,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Andrew Hill,
Moebius,
This Heat,
Radio Birdman,
DJ Sneak,
Qualms,
The Buckinghams,
Tubeway Army,
The Evens,
Sun Ra,
Sound Behaviour,
Nik Kershaw,
Boredoms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantytec,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roger Hodgson,
Kerri Chandler,
Intrusion,
Minny Pops,
Duran Duran,
The Invisible,
Ronan,
Black Bananas,
The Slits,
Judy Mowatt,
Reuben Wilson,
The Barracudas,
Slave,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Modern Lovers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Colin Newman,
Rufus Thomas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Walker Brothers,
Massinfluence,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marmalade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ituana,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.