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 Morocco and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 Bizarre Inc. to the dance 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
David Bowie,
Alison Limerick,
The Smoke,
Fela Kuti,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Barrington Levy,
Wally Richardson,
Chris Corsano,
The Raincoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Reuben Wilson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blancmange,
Wire,
Delta 5,
The Selecter,
Gabor Szabo,
Jandek,
JFA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
A Certain Ratio,
Accadde A,
The Happenings,
Fluxion,
Marvin Gaye,
ABC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Halsall,
LL Cool J,
The Walker Brothers,
China Crisis,
Livin' Joy,
Tommy Roe,
Symarip,
Jerry's Kids,
Ten City,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
AZ,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lalo Schifrin,
48th St. Collective,
Excepter,
DNA,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Near,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Busters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warren Ellis,
Scratch Acid,
Deadbeat,
Jeff Lynne,
Bauhaus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Durutti Column,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.