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 Bahamas and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Don Cherry,
Tim Buckley,
Alice Coltrane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Grandmaster Flash,
Neil Young,
Reuben Wilson,
Warsaw,
David Bowie,
ABBA,
Agitation Free,
Maurizio,
Mandrill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Intrusion,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Cale,
Trumans Water,
Main Source,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Buckinghams,
Brothers Johnson,
Pierre Henry,
Black Moon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Judy Mowatt,
Sight & Sound,
One Last Wish,
Duran Duran,
kango's stein massive,
Davy DMX,
Nils Olav,
The Sound,
Echospace,
Barbara Tucker,
Television Personalities,
Wolf Eyes,
Matthew Bourne,
The Kinks,
Symarip,
The Last Poets,
The Trojans,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Beau Brummels,
The Music Machine,
48th St. Collective,
Cymande,
June Days,
The Red Krayola,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Barry Ungar,
Bad Manners,
Terry Callier,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joe Finger,
Skarface,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.