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 Philippines and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Angels of Light to the crunk 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Moebius,
Kenny Larkin,
Peter & Gordon,
The Blackbyrds,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Terry,
The Trojans,
The Stooges,
The Angels of Light,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
Simply Red,
Tubeway Army,
Cal Tjader,
David Axelrod,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Red Krayola,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fall,
Tres Demented,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warren Ellis,
Toni Rubio,
Bobby Sherman,
Ornette Coleman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Flag,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marmalade,
DJ Sneak,
MDC,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Main Source,
Boz Scaggs,
Faraquet,
Magazine,
Iggy Pop,
Soft Machine,
Swans,
Scott Walker,
Sugar Minott,
D'Angelo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
China Crisis,
The Leaves,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Litter,
Urselle,
Tears for Fears,
Livin' Joy,
Idris Muhammad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ken Boothe,
Spandau Ballet,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.