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 Comoros and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Mummies to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rotary Connection record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barbara Tucker,
T. Rex,
Bill Near,
Black Moon,
The Buckinghams,
the Bar-Kays,
Slave,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Remains,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dead Boys,
Fear,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tears for Fears,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Slits,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Theoretical Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
New Order,
Iggy Pop,
Youth Brigade,
X-Ray Spex,
Guru Guru,
Wire,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marvin Gaye,
Blake Baxter,
The Stooges,
Barclay James Harvest,
Loose Ends,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minutemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Liliput,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry's Kids,
Bob Dylan,
Laurel Aitken,
Maurizio,
Michelle Simonal,
The Invisible,
Tim Buckley,
Fatback Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unwound,
EPMD,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
10cc,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Angry Samoans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wasted Youth,
X-101,
Q65,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Babytalk,
Crooked Eye,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.