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 Dominica and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Graham Central Station to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Sugar Minott,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Sherman,
Warren Ellis,
Eve St. Jones,
Gichy Dan,
The Durutti Column,
Tom Boy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crime,
Intrusion,
Bush Tetras,
the Swans,
June Days,
Symarip,
New York Dolls,
Scientists,
Marvin Gaye,
Erasure,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Stooges,
Simply Red,
Steve Hackett,
Audionom,
Skarface,
Deepchord,
Whodini,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
EPMD,
Harpers Bizarre,
Inner City,
Qualms,
Wire,
Eli Mardock,
Glambeats Corp.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gories,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faraquet,
Q and Not U,
Pet Shop Boys,
LL Cool J,
Neil Young,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell,
Q65,
The Techniques,
New Age Steppers,
Grauzone,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jawbox,
Janne Schatter,
Ludus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sällskapet,
Metal Thangz,
Icehouse,
Rites of Spring,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.