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 Samoa and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 One Last Wish to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Erykah Badu,
The Raincoats,
Maleditus Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Victims,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Christie,
Tropical Tobacco,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pantaleimon,
Anthony Braxton,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Blues Magoos,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Index,
Icehouse,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Davy DMX,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Erasure,
Circle Jerks,
The Fortunes,
The Doors,
Skriet,
Livin' Joy,
Godley & Creme,
Darondo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wire,
Duran Duran,
Outsiders,
Heaven 17,
Brass Construction,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arab on Radar,
Rotary Connection,
Talk Talk,
Michelle Simonal,
The Slackers,
Eric Copeland,
Mission of Burma,
Skaos,
Lyres,
Zapp,
The Dead C,
Dennis Brown,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Byrd,
Matthew Halsall,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Excepter,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.