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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
B.T. Express,
Connie Case,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lower 48,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Zapp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scan 7,
Camberwell Now,
Lakeside,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
Aural Exciters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Byrd,
UT,
Lou Christie,
Juan Atkins,
The Real Kids,
Barry Ungar,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gun Club,
The Fire Engines,
Chrome,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dawn Penn,
Cal Tjader,
Model 500,
Duran Duran,
Lou Reed,
Ultravox,
Joe Finger,
Graham Central Station,
F. McDonald,
Jerry's Kids,
Zero Boys,
Lalann,
The Slits,
Fugazi,
The Trojans,
Von Mondo,
the Slits,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fortunes,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
The Victims,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Human League,
Harry Pussy,
Harmonia,
Roger Hodgson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Whodini,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Public Enemy,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.