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 Togo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes 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 Iggy Pop to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Cymande,
Visage,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Howard Jones,
D'Angelo,
Schoolly D,
Tomorrow,
Eve St. Jones,
Mandrill,
Sparks,
Bill Near,
The Gun Club,
L. Decosne,
Basic Channel,
Sixth Finger,
Delta 5,
Susan Cadogan,
The Five Americans,
Matthew Bourne,
Alton Ellis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Can,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dawn Penn,
The J.B.'s,
This Heat,
The Smiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Tremeloes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Donny Hathaway,
New Order,
The Durutti Column,
The United States of America,
Ponytail,
Funky Four + One,
The Associates,
Average White Band,
Make Up,
Davy DMX,
Robert Görl,
Pulsallama,
Nik Kershaw,
The Walker Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Jesper Dahlback,
Carl Craig,
Arcadia,
the Germs,
Cecil Taylor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lucky Dragons,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Stockholm Monsters,
World's Most,
Donald Byrd,
Erasure,
The Last Poets,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.