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 Turkmenistan and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Yaz to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Iggy Pop,
Godley & Creme,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gun Club,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nas,
Trumans Water,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Inner City,
The Evens,
Brick,
Silicon Teens,
Henry Cow,
The Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Mo-Dettes,
Kerri Chandler,
FM Einheit,
The Velvet Underground,
Mars,
Smog,
Sam Rivers,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
Rod Modell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minny Pops,
Rites of Spring,
the Soft Cell,
Magma,
A Certain Ratio,
The Skatalites,
Khruangbin,
Alton Ellis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
Sound Behaviour,
Max Romeo,
The Smiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Prunes,
The Beau Brummels,
The Moody Blues,
Eli Mardock,
Arcadia,
The Residents,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Au Pairs,
The Monochrome Set,
T. Rex,
Chris Corsano,
Easy Going,
Young Marble Giants,
Yaz,
Jeff Lynne,
David Bowie,
Prince Buster,
Jacob Miller,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.