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 Gambia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Erasure to the dance 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Gories,
Ituana,
Funkadelic,
Nik Kershaw,
Deadbeat,
Newcleus,
Roger Hodgson,
Yaz,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gun Club,
Eve St. Jones,
Angry Samoans,
The Happenings,
Mark Hollis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sight & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Human League,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mojo Men,
The Smoke,
ABC,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nick Fraelich,
The Blues Magoos,
Minny Pops,
Black Sheep,
Flamin' Groovies,
Slick Rick,
Cymande,
The Real Kids,
The Names,
John Cale,
Television,
The Gladiators,
The Cure,
Matthew Halsall,
Popol Vuh,
Reuben Wilson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Detroit Cobras,
Maleditus Sound,
Qualms,
Gang Gang Dance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra,
Scott Walker,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Mills,
Guru Guru,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Duran Duran,
a-ha,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dead Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Echospace,
Theoretical Girls,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.