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 Turkey and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Sexual Harrassment 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Sandy B,
Mo-Dettes,
Dorothy Ashby,
This Heat,
Harry Pussy,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sparks,
Cheater Slicks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Bourne,
Buzzcocks,
B.T. Express,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tim Buckley,
Albert Ayler,
Erasure,
Joey Negro,
the Germs,
Subhumans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cure,
Pole,
Banda Bassotti,
Livin' Joy,
Moss Icon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Music Machine,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Lynne,
Yazoo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gladiators,
Lakeside,
Lucky Dragons,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Invisible,
Wings,
the Human League,
Aswad,
Echospace,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brick,
Reagan Youth,
ABBA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Simply Red,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neu!,
Kayak,
Radiohead,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rufus Thomas,
Fluxion,
Flash Fearless,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Boredoms,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.