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 Zambia and from Cairo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
John Holt,
Young Marble Giants,
X-102,
Sparks,
James White and The Blacks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Outsiders,
Ronnie Foster,
the Soft Cell,
The Sound,
Infiniti,
a-ha,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABBA,
Pole,
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
AZ,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Altered Images,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flash Fearless,
The Birthday Party,
Stiv Bators,
David McCallum,
Brand Nubian,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ultravox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott Heron,
One Last Wish,
Boogie Down Productions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gichy Dan,
Deakin,
The Toasters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Make Up,
MC5,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Residents,
the Human League,
Ornette Coleman,
Franke,
Chrome,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sun City Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Intrusion,
Clear Light,
Fatback Band,
Fluxion,
Junior Murvin,
The Durutti Column,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bill Near,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.