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 Grenada and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator 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 Toni Rubio to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Youth Brigade,
Crash Course in Science,
Stiv Bators,
Pulsallama,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
Bad Manners,
Robert Hood,
Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bizarre Inc.,
Banda Bassotti,
The Leaves,
Iggy Pop,
Leonard Cohen,
Blancmange,
Sex Pistols,
Tears for Fears,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Hill,
Excepter,
The Divine Comedy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Standells,
Hasil Adkins,
Hoover,
Piero Umiliani,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thompson Twins,
ABC,
Wolf Eyes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echospace,
T. Rex,
Interpol,
Thee Headcoats,
Isaac Hayes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Half Japanese,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Vainqueur,
Reagan Youth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Technova,
Marcia Griffiths,
Circle Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joyce Sims,
Basic Channel,
Procol Harum,
Sonic Youth,
Index,
Harry Pussy,
Tres Demented,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.