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 Bolivia and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brand Nubian to the punk 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Fear,
The American Breed,
Porter Ricks,
Anthony Braxton,
Camberwell Now,
Half Japanese,
KRS-One,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bronski Beat,
T.S.O.L.,
Nick Fraelich,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moby Grape,
DJ Sneak,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kaleidoscope,
Jawbox,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arcadia,
Lou Christie,
Sonic Youth,
Skarface,
The Fugs,
48th St. Collective,
Gichy Dan,
OOIOO,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
The Fire Engines,
Mark Hollis,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare,
The J.B.'s,
Circle Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Icehouse,
The Leaves,
Nils Olav,
Ten City,
Bootsy Collins,
Archie Shepp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fortunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crime,
Letta Mbulu,
X-102,
Depeche Mode,
Nas,
Steve Hackett,
Pantytec,
Malaria!,
Janne Schatter,
New Age Steppers,
Guru Guru,
Tom Boy,
The Neon Judgement,
It's A Beautiful Day,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.