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 Tunisia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Morten Harket to the crunk 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Neu!,
Stiv Bators,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Selecter,
Infiniti,
Amazonics,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gladiators,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Liliput,
The Human League,
The Techniques,
Gang Green,
Sonic Youth,
In Retrospect,
Quantec,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wally Richardson,
Das Ding,
The Red Krayola,
Al Stewart,
Zero Boys,
Scientists,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June of 44,
Arcadia,
Lightning Bolt,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy Collins,
Blossom Toes,
The Black Dice,
Bill Near,
Nick Fraelich,
Banda Bassotti,
The Zeros,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Toasters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
D'Angelo,
Radio Birdman,
Tres Demented,
Steve Hackett,
CMW,
The Offenders,
UT,
Spoonie Gee,
Freddie Wadling,
Porter Ricks,
Moby Grape,
The Slits,
Jacques Brel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sound Behaviour,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.