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 Djibouti and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sugar Minott to the jazz 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Pussy Galore,
Rhythm & Sound,
T. Rex,
Crime,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Young Rascals,
Todd Terry,
cv313,
Anakelly,
Bobby Sherman,
Erasure,
Fugazi,
Joe Smooth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
PIL,
The Pop Group,
Cheater Slicks,
Duran Duran,
The Martian,
Minny Pops,
Stereo Dub,
Yusef Lateef,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Stooges,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
U.S. Maple,
Goldenarms,
Erykah Badu,
Con Funk Shun,
Q and Not U,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Lynne,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
Faust,
Das Ding,
June of 44,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Audionom,
Soft Machine,
Technova,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül II,
Skaos,
Babytalk,
David Bowie,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dark Day,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barclay James Harvest,
Heaven 17,
Letta Mbulu,
Nils Olav,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang Green,
the Human League,
Sonic Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.