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 Nauru and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Derrick May to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hasil Adkins,
Hashim,
Amon Düül II,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pussy Galore,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sparks,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
The Cowsills,
X-Ray Spex,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lungfish,
The Angels of Light,
Monolake,
The Trojans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dual Sessions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
Matthew Bourne,
Joe Smooth,
Roxette,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Motorama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Byrd,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Mills,
Wings,
Dark Day,
Sound Behaviour,
The Vogues,
Funky Four + One,
Stockholm Monsters,
Carl Craig,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nico,
Blake Baxter,
F. McDonald,
Yaz,
The Music Machine,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare,
Scratch Acid,
Arab on Radar,
Morten Harket,
Tubeway Army,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.