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 Venezuela and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Second Layer to the dance 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Anthony Braxton,
Pole,
Country Teasers,
The Monochrome Set,
Severed Heads,
Nik Kershaw,
Ken Boothe,
Bronski Beat,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angry Samoans,
Fat Boys,
Gang Green,
The Alarm Clocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
Main Source,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Human League,
The Golliwogs,
Roger Hodgson,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Zeros,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bauhaus,
The Residents,
Silicon Teens,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gap Band,
Hashim,
Delta 5,
Crime,
Judy Mowatt,
Lower 48,
Parry Music,
Mark Hollis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-102,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swans,
Audionom,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Copeland,
James White and The Blacks,
Aloha Tigers,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Mills,
Moby Grape,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Amon Düül II,
K-Klass,
Mad Mike,
The Pretty Things,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sugar Minott,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.