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 Estonia and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 organ 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 Au Pairs to the funk 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Yaz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
R.M.O.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kurtis Blow,
The Beau Brummels,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stiv Bators,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ohio Players,
Porter Ricks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oneida,
Ponytail,
Stereo Dub,
Marshall Jefferson,
kango's stein massive,
Neil Young,
The Fortunes,
Scrapy,
Fat Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Basic Channel,
Crash Course in Science,
Barrington Levy,
Tears for Fears,
Pagans,
Eric Copeland,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Saccharine Trust,
John Lydon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fugs,
Black Flag,
Kenny Larkin,
Sugar Minott,
The Zeros,
The Sonics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Neon Judgement,
48th St. Collective,
The Vogues,
Terry Callier,
Metal Thangz,
Yellowson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Country Teasers,
Sun City Girls,
Main Source,
Khruangbin,
cv313,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.