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 Gambia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the techno 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Television,
Theoretical Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Altered Images,
The Sonics,
Boz Scaggs,
Lucky Dragons,
Ken Boothe,
X-102,
Byron Stingily,
James White and The Blacks,
Juan Atkins,
Marine Girls,
Sixth Finger,
Tubeway Army,
Technova,
Black Sheep,
The American Breed,
Joey Negro,
This Heat,
KRS-One,
Nils Olav,
Dead Boys,
Niagra,
Bill Near,
Sällskapet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alphaville,
Alison Limerick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pole,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chrome,
Interpol,
Bad Manners,
Radio Birdman,
The Dirtbombs,
The Durutti Column,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stereo Dub,
Black Pus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cal Tjader,
Wire,
New York Dolls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
Model 500,
Roxette,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
UT,
DJ Sneak,
Don Cherry,
Black Bananas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Remains,
Main Source,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.