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 Guyana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Donald Fagen 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 Mark Hollis to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Groovy Waters,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Sheep,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nils Olav,
Lungfish,
Smog,
Byron Stingily,
Neil Young,
Max Romeo,
Hot Snakes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Anakelly,
Colin Newman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-102,
Hardrive,
Soulsonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Letta Mbulu,
Lucky Dragons,
Hoover,
Camouflage,
Metal Thangz,
Jeff Mills,
Marvin Gaye,
Terry Callier,
Eric Dolphy,
Negative Approach,
Pagans,
Rosa Yemen,
Gichy Dan,
Heaven 17,
Skriet,
The Electric Prunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Grass Roots,
Sugar Minott,
Oblivians,
Junior Murvin,
Iggy Pop,
Buzzcocks,
Drexciya,
Magazine,
Talk Talk,
Main Source,
Harmonia,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Lydon,
Dennis Brown,
The Sound,
The Martian,
The J.B.'s,
Rekid,
The Gories,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.