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 Chad and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Goldenarms to the jazz 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ken Boothe,
World's Most,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Blossom Toes,
Livin' Joy,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-Ray Spex,
Au Pairs,
Idris Muhammad,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
The Grass Roots,
Wasted Youth,
Fela Kuti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Neu!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
Audionom,
New Age Steppers,
Amazonics,
The Blues Magoos,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mummies,
Rapeman,
Oblivians,
the Association,
Alice Coltrane,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soul II Soul,
Eric Dolphy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Christie,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Piero Umiliani,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Steve Hackett,
The Velvet Underground,
Carl Craig,
Robert Hood,
Bang On A Can,
Anakelly,
June Days,
Bob Dylan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marc Almond,
Qualms,
Stereo Dub,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Gap Band,
Slick Rick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.