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 Sri Lanka and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 10cc to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nik Kershaw,
Spoonie Gee,
Massinfluence,
Graham Central Station,
Deadbeat,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Zeros,
Sexual Harrassment,
T. Rex,
Connie Case,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yaz,
Lindisfarne,
Tommy Roe,
Dawn Penn,
the Soft Cell,
Qualms,
Flipper,
Con Funk Shun,
Clear Light,
The Techniques,
Howard Jones,
Banda Bassotti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Talk Talk,
Funkadelic,
The Happenings,
Magma,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang of Four,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gabor Szabo,
the Human League,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fortunes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sound,
Amazonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerri Chandler,
Los Fastidios,
Scientists,
The Move,
The Trojans,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Names,
Minnie Riperton,
Susan Cadogan,
ABBA,
The Skatalites,
Dennis Brown,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.