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 Greece and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 the Soft Cell to the rap 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Brick,
Bush Tetras,
The Offenders,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sällskapet,
10cc,
The Five Americans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Arthur Verocai,
Susan Cadogan,
Q and Not U,
Aaron Thompson,
The Vogues,
the Normal,
Audionom,
Spoonie Gee,
The Remains,
Patti Smith,
Lungfish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Smiths,
Flipper,
Lightning Bolt,
The Residents,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gong,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kayak,
JFA,
Hasil Adkins,
Los Fastidios,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronnie Foster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash,
Talk Talk,
the Slits,
The Index,
Quadrant,
the Soft Cell,
Shuggie Otis,
Bill Wells,
ABC,
the Sonics,
The Saints,
Aswad,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Holt,
Dennis Brown,
Cal Tjader,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fear,
Bobby Byrd,
The Martian,
X-101,
Chris Corsano,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.