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 Ukraine and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 David Bowie 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the techno 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Index,
Matthew Bourne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Maurizio,
Deakin,
The Smiths,
The Cramps,
Bill Wells,
Aswad,
Cybotron,
The Mummies,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Pretty Things,
Camouflage,
The Beau Brummels,
T. Rex,
The Durutti Column,
Cluster,
Rapeman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kaleidoscope,
Throbbing Gristle,
Infiniti,
Amon Düül,
Sexual Harrassment,
Peter & Gordon,
The Gladiators,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terry Callier,
Camberwell Now,
Roxette,
Eric Copeland,
Technova,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barrington Levy,
The Moody Blues,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Little Man,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Almond,
Lalo Schifrin,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Inner City,
Skriet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alton Ellis,
The Fuzztones,
Boz Scaggs,
Surgeon,
Donny Hathaway,
Max Romeo,
Faust,
Can,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.