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 Belgium and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare 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 Barbara Tucker to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Second Layer,
Inner City,
Thompson Twins,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Joe Smooth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Robert Görl,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mummies,
Guru Guru,
The Doors,
Cymande,
Bobby Byrd,
Altered Images,
Los Fastidios,
Lalann,
the Sonics,
Lebanon Hanover,
Accadde A,
Byron Stingily,
Country Teasers,
The Cowsills,
Y Pants,
Iggy Pop,
Toni Rubio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stetsasonic,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alice Coltrane,
Mark Hollis,
Scott Walker,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Motions,
Niagra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nik Kershaw,
Parry Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bill Wells,
Erykah Badu,
Make Up,
Matthew Halsall,
Shuggie Otis,
The Count Five,
Nirvana,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Shoche,
The Electric Prunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Wake,
Graham Central Station,
China Crisis,
Andrew Hill,
Ornette Coleman,
Lyres,
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.