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 Armenia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Brothers Johnson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Duran Duran,
Black Bananas,
Arthur Verocai,
The New Christs,
T. Rex,
X-Ray Spex,
Frankie Knuckles,
Colin Newman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mark Hollis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minutemen,
B.T. Express,
Man Eating Sloth,
Warsaw,
Hoover,
The Index,
The Red Krayola,
The Kinks,
The Doors,
Donny Hathaway,
The Saints,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marmalade,
Roxette,
David McCallum,
Trumans Water,
Mad Mike,
Ten City,
The Moleskins,
La Düsseldorf,
Yazoo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rakim,
Altered Images,
The Fortunes,
The Tremeloes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Visage,
Whodini,
JFA,
Easy Going,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Siglo XX,
Anthony Braxton,
Pulsallama,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Starr,
Lightning Bolt,
Boz Scaggs,
Rotary Connection,
Half Japanese,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.