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 Liberia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fatback Band,
The Birthday Party,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Tremeloes,
The Slackers,
La Düsseldorf,
Scott Walker,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed,
The Velvet Underground,
Terry Callier,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Little Man,
David Axelrod,
Howard Jones,
The Walker Brothers,
Alton Ellis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cowsills,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
The Motions,
Unwound,
Interpol,
Kevin Saunderson,
Suburban Knight,
The J.B.'s,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
World's Most,
Eve St. Jones,
CMW,
10cc,
Avey Tare,
Toni Rubio,
The Blues Magoos,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
June Days,
Judy Mowatt,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lower 48,
David Bowie,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tres Demented,
Maleditus Sound,
Easy Going,
Ornette Coleman,
Altered Images,
Von Mondo,
Hardrive,
Rapeman,
Royal Trux,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Procol Harum,
B.T. Express,
Severed Heads,
Radiopuhelimet,
Juan Atkins,
The Sonics,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.