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 Tunisia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Scott Walker to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James White and The Blacks,
Warsaw,
Soft Cell,
ABBA,
F. McDonald,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ken Boothe,
The Last Poets,
Lungfish,
Banda Bassotti,
The Invisible,
AZ,
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Reed,
Aaron Thompson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wasted Youth,
Iggy Pop,
Chrome,
Harmonia,
Vladislav Delay,
Duran Duran,
Kaleidoscope,
The Seeds,
David Bowie,
The Smoke,
Au Pairs,
Godley & Creme,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Pretty Things,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joe Smooth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
E-Dancer,
Motorama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Leaves,
Metal Thangz,
Magma,
Cameo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Essential Logic,
Hot Snakes,
Ten City,
kango's stein massive,
The Mojo Men,
The Motions,
The Divine Comedy,
Maurizio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.