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 East Timor and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Associates to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
The Doors,
Electric Prunes,
Byron Stingily,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Association,
Pulsallama,
Ronnie Foster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Move,
Marc Almond,
Janne Schatter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bad Manners,
Sandy B,
Qualms,
Matthew Bourne,
Monolake,
Drexciya,
Kerrie Biddell,
CMW,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kenny Larkin,
Delta 5,
Brand Nubian,
Anthony Braxton,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric Dolphy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fuzztones,
Eurythmics,
Suburban Knight,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gichy Dan,
the Slits,
Little Man,
The Happenings,
Subhumans,
a-ha,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Barracudas,
Inner City,
Jeff Lynne,
Procol Harum,
Au Pairs,
The Five Americans,
Masters at Work,
Rekid,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Starr,
Angry Samoans,
The Electric Prunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
Parry Music,
Tres Demented,
Hasil Adkins,
Fugazi,
Popol Vuh,
The Smiths,
The Selecter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Can,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.