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 Honduras and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord 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 Mr. Review to the grime 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Leaves,
Sister Nancy,
Nils Olav,
Roger Hodgson,
Pussy Galore,
Sam Rivers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chrome,
T. Rex,
The American Breed,
Can,
Avey Tare,
KRS-One,
Lower 48,
Bobby Byrd,
Tropical Tobacco,
Au Pairs,
Alison Limerick,
Marvin Gaye,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
The Wake,
Unwound,
Slick Rick,
The Saints,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bronski Beat,
The Grass Roots,
Althea and Donna,
Juan Atkins,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Residents,
The Slits,
Swell Maps,
DNA,
Derrick May,
Crash Course in Science,
Man Eating Sloth,
Malaria!,
EPMD,
Thompson Twins,
David Axelrod,
The Fire Engines,
The Star Department,
Barry Ungar,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Stooges,
Bob Dylan,
Guru Guru,
The Mummies,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Todd Rundgren,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.