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 Cape Verde and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Monolake,
Pussy Galore,
Erasure,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Half Japanese,
Stereo Dub,
The Dead C,
Cecil Taylor,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lalann,
Brothers Johnson,
Little Man,
Alton Ellis,
ABC,
The Cowsills,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brand Nubian,
Monks,
Dual Sessions,
Q and Not U,
Unrelated Segments,
Massinfluence,
Fear,
Echospace,
Peter and Kerry,
New Order,
The Pop Group,
China Crisis,
Nik Kershaw,
Colin Newman,
Radio Birdman,
A Certain Ratio,
Derrick Morgan,
Al Stewart,
Thee Headcoats,
Scientists,
T. Rex,
The Techniques,
Matthew Bourne,
Lou Reed,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Associates,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Albert Ayler,
Wings,
Smog,
Loose Ends,
Marvin Gaye,
Bad Manners,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Holt,
Mission of Burma,
Technova,
Sam Rivers,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.