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 Peru and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
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 snare 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
The Raincoats,
OOIOO,
Black Pus,
Q and Not U,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sällskapet,
Moss Icon,
The American Breed,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pole,
Soft Cell,
Nirvana,
The Misunderstood,
Trumans Water,
Severed Heads,
The Divine Comedy,
The Count Five,
Reuben Wilson,
The Searchers,
The Offenders,
Roxy Music,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Loose Ends,
Soulsonic Force,
Barrington Levy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Buzzcocks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sex Pistols,
The Doors,
Fat Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Suburban Knight,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang of Four,
The Beau Brummels,
Grauzone,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun Ra,
Echospace,
Deepchord,
Harpers Bizarre,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Bar-Kays,
Bootsy Collins,
Shoche,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cure,
Von Mondo,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Sherman,
E-Dancer,
Saccharine Trust,
X-Ray Spex,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.