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 Yemen and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pop Group to the punk 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Animal Collective,
Derrick May,
Intrusion,
Girls At Our Best!,
Junior Murvin,
Lindisfarne,
Bad Manners,
Laurel Aitken,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joensuu 1685,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Smog,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Fraelich,
Soft Machine,
Guru Guru,
Joyce Sims,
Scan 7,
Skaos,
Alice Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
Moss Icon,
June Days,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
R.M.O.,
Rakim,
The Raincoats,
Faust,
Morten Harket,
Idris Muhammad,
The Residents,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Donny Hathaway,
New Order,
Easy Going,
T. Rex,
Todd Rundgren,
Iggy Pop,
Lower 48,
The Associates,
Ice-T,
Bobby Womack,
Fugazi,
Royal Trux,
Con Funk Shun,
The Leaves,
Kas Product,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Association,
Sister Nancy,
the Sonics,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sam Rivers,
X-Ray Spex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.