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 San Marino and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Curtis Mayfield to the funk 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip 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?
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dead C,
Duran Duran,
Pylon,
Jacob Miller,
Black Flag,
Infiniti,
Archie Shepp,
The Cramps,
Circle Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
Sex Pistols,
Radio Birdman,
Con Funk Shun,
the Human League,
Sun City Girls,
Pussy Galore,
The Count Five,
The Angels of Light,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jawbox,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kerrie Biddell,
Oblivians,
Brothers Johnson,
New Order,
Wire,
Adolescents,
Kayak,
Sällskapet,
The Slackers,
Altered Images,
Fugazi,
Flash Fearless,
Clear Light,
Bob Dylan,
kango's stein massive,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fat Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Halsall,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
Andrew Hill,
Brand Nubian,
Mad Mike,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Steve Hackett,
The Martian,
Black Sheep,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monochrome Set,
T. Rex,
a-ha,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.