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 Ivory Coast and from New York.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 Victims to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Joe Smooth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sarah Menescal,
Donny Hathaway,
Pagans,
Angry Samoans,
Deepchord,
Yaz,
Bad Manners,
Amon Düül II,
Goldenarms,
The Vogues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Human League,
Lungfish,
Slick Rick,
Marvin Gaye,
Porter Ricks,
Minor Threat,
Quantec,
Simply Red,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pierre Henry,
Radiopuhelimet,
Peter & Gordon,
T.S.O.L.,
Pere Ubu,
Minny Pops,
Prince Buster,
Sight & Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bang On A Can,
The Offenders,
Rapeman,
Blake Baxter,
DNA,
Sly & The Family Stone,
These Immortal Souls,
Suburban Knight,
David Axelrod,
Royal Trux,
Tom Boy,
The Five Americans,
Bauhaus,
The Martian,
Organ,
Liliput,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Charles Mingus,
The Last Poets,
Robert Wyatt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bush Tetras,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
the Association,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.