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 Lesotho and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the funk 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Beau Brummels,
Technova,
Shoche,
Television,
Toni Rubio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lindisfarne,
Heaven 17,
Desert Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boredoms,
Bootsy Collins,
Surgeon,
Little Man,
Gabor Szabo,
Danielle Patucci,
Eddi Front,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lucky Dragons,
Max Romeo,
Bad Manners,
Lou Reed,
The Barracudas,
LL Cool J,
the Bar-Kays,
Skaos,
The Stooges,
Throbbing Gristle,
Panda Bear,
Severed Heads,
Grauzone,
Gregory Isaacs,
James White and The Blacks,
The Five Americans,
Matthew Bourne,
The Evens,
FM Einheit,
The Angels of Light,
Khruangbin,
Tomorrow,
X-102,
Arthur Verocai,
Make Up,
Suburban Knight,
New Age Steppers,
The Monochrome Set,
Metal Thangz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Average White Band,
Radio Birdman,
Young Marble Giants,
June Days,
Mars,
Graham Central Station,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bill Wells,
World's Most,
Bob Dylan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.