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 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba 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 Association to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Oneida,
David Axelrod,
Theoretical Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultra Naté,
Index,
Rakim,
Model 500,
Robert Wyatt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roxy Music,
Marine Girls,
Excepter,
Roy Ayers,
Jandek,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mandrill,
Patti Smith,
David Bowie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
John Foxx,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun Ra,
CMW,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Von Mondo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sixth Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eurythmics,
Jesper Dahlback,
Make Up,
the Human League,
The Blues Magoos,
The Offenders,
The Sonics,
Underground Resistance,
The Barracudas,
Anthony Braxton,
Lee Hazlewood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Loose Ends,
K-Klass,
Kerri Chandler,
Stereo Dub,
Todd Rundgren,
Eddi Front,
Angry Samoans,
Trumans Water,
Essential Logic,
Bauhaus,
The Invisible,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Görl,
B.T. Express,
The Beau Brummels,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.