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 Malawi and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Durutti Column to the crunk 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Icehouse,
The Star Department,
Electric Prunes,
Bill Wells,
Minnie Riperton,
Grey Daturas,
Inner City,
Mark Hollis,
Surgeon,
Rotary Connection,
Barclay James Harvest,
Althea and Donna,
The Remains,
Intrusion,
Goldenarms,
Hot Snakes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Steve Hackett,
Ohio Players,
Q and Not U,
Little Man,
Radiohead,
R.M.O.,
World's Most,
Glenn Branca,
Gang Gang Dance,
KRS-One,
Soul II Soul,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tubeway Army,
New York Dolls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Pus,
LL Cool J,
Lightning Bolt,
John Holt,
Oneida,
Yaz,
Nils Olav,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nick Fraelich,
Marmalade,
Grauzone,
Rapeman,
John Coltrane,
The Five Americans,
Jeff Mills,
Fat Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Carl Craig,
Television,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Womack,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy Collins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.