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 South Africa and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The Last Poets to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pet Shop Boys,
D'Angelo,
Blake Baxter,
T. Rex,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Das Ding,
CMW,
Bronski Beat,
Masters at Work,
Sarah Menescal,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Wyatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grauzone,
Josef K,
Alphaville,
Lyres,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
Television,
Amon Düül II,
Warsaw,
The Cure,
Supertramp,
Youth Brigade,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Liliput,
Con Funk Shun,
World's Most,
Juan Atkins,
The Standells,
Dark Day,
Loose Ends,
The Gap Band,
The Kinks,
Chris Corsano,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Motions,
One Last Wish,
Pylon,
R.M.O.,
The Residents,
Flamin' Groovies,
Blancmange,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Vainqueur,
Tim Buckley,
Rites of Spring,
The Fire Engines,
Glenn Branca,
Prince Buster,
Nik Kershaw,
a-ha,
Dual Sessions,
Colin Newman,
Metal Thangz,
John Lydon,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.