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 Luxembourg and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin 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 Cameo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Second Layer,
Rekid,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sällskapet,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Standells,
Bang On A Can,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moby Grape,
Cheater Slicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
L. Decosne,
Public Enemy,
Gang Green,
Bizarre Inc.,
Procol Harum,
Scratch Acid,
The Neon Judgement,
Fugazi,
Matthew Bourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Red Krayola,
The Slackers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
The Black Dice,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Stooges,
Khruangbin,
Leonard Cohen,
Jawbox,
Rapeman,
Bill Wells,
Roxette,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Frankie Knuckles,
Intrusion,
Kurtis Blow,
Brick,
H. Thieme,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Michelle Simonal,
48th St. Collective,
MDC,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scott Walker,
The Five Americans,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Remains,
The Angels of Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Howard Jones,
Masters at Work,
The Dirtbombs,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.