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 Moldova and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 Barclay James Harvest to the rock 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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Cluster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roy Ayers,
Byron Stingily,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Busters,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
Soft Machine,
The New Christs,
FM Einheit,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kas Product,
The Index,
Reagan Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
The Smoke,
Massinfluence,
Dorothy Ashby,
Man Eating Sloth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Skarface,
Shoche,
Porter Ricks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Fania All-Stars,
L. Decosne,
DNA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Silicon Teens,
Susan Cadogan,
Qualms,
the Normal,
Scott Walker,
Con Funk Shun,
Agitation Free,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Half Japanese,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims,
the Soft Cell,
Franke,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fortunes,
Tim Buckley,
Amon Düül,
Mo-Dettes,
The Leaves,
Little Man,
Magma,
Nirvana,
Depeche Mode,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.