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 Mauritania and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tomorrow to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Anakelly,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Junior Murvin,
The Neon Judgement,
Boz Scaggs,
The Selecter,
Radio Birdman,
Agent Orange,
Susan Cadogan,
Joy Division,
Tim Buckley,
Marine Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Cymande,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Altered Images,
Outsiders,
Livin' Joy,
Inner City,
Dorothy Ashby,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crash Course in Science,
Absolute Body Control,
Dawn Penn,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ultimate Spinach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Con Funk Shun,
a-ha,
MC5,
8 Eyed Spy,
Q and Not U,
Dennis Brown,
The Black Dice,
Clear Light,
Sparks,
Cheater Slicks,
Kas Product,
Wings,
China Crisis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sandy B,
The Walker Brothers,
Talk Talk,
The Saints,
Derrick May,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Wells,
Slave,
Yazoo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Guru Guru,
Matthew Bourne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Stiv Bators,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.