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 Lucia and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Albert Ayler to the rock 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Roxette,
Rod Modell,
Masters at Work,
Crispian St. Peters,
Loose Ends,
K-Klass,
Amon Düül,
Magazine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Blancmange,
Chris Corsano,
Flipper,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roger Hodgson,
Panda Bear,
Alton Ellis,
The Litter,
The Victims,
Whodini,
Mantronix,
Fad Gadget,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ludus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lyres,
Donald Byrd,
Tres Demented,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Pus,
Sandy B,
Guru Guru,
Ronan,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Sonics,
Deepchord,
Eric Copeland,
Kayak,
ABC,
Moebius,
Aloha Tigers,
cv313,
Tim Buckley,
Black Bananas,
Piero Umiliani,
Dual Sessions,
Duran Duran,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
James Chance & The Contortions,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mission of Burma,
Iggy Pop,
The Tremeloes,
Cameo,
The Birthday Party,
Altered Images,
Marshall Jefferson,
Q and Not U,
Black Sheep,
Joey Negro,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.