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 San Marino and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Flamin' Groovies to the disco 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Guru Guru,
Deepchord,
Sam Rivers,
Lakeside,
Aswad,
Supertramp,
The Wake,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
PIL,
Lalann,
Pantaleimon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lalo Schifrin,
These Immortal Souls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Stooges,
Nirvana,
Alton Ellis,
Max Romeo,
Peter and Kerry,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dave Gahan,
Icehouse,
X-101,
John Cale,
Todd Rundgren,
T.S.O.L.,
Saccharine Trust,
The Motions,
The Dead C,
Howard Jones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yellowson,
The Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kenny Larkin,
David Axelrod,
Bad Manners,
The United States of America,
Byron Stingily,
Crispian St. Peters,
T. Rex,
Eric Copeland,
The Fire Engines,
The Walker Brothers,
Sällskapet,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
Hasil Adkins,
Jeff Mills,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ken Boothe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Starr,
Maleditus Sound,
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.