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 Czech Republic and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Warren Ellis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Excepter,
Organ,
Sällskapet,
The Litter,
Talk Talk,
Camouflage,
ABBA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rotary Connection,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gun Club,
Mantronix,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Zapp,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glenn Branca,
The Blues Magoos,
Jacques Brel,
Heaven 17,
Funkadelic,
Prince Buster,
Symarip,
The Doors,
The Electric Prunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Real Kids,
Letta Mbulu,
Von Mondo,
Rufus Thomas,
Trumans Water,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare,
Mad Mike,
The Zeros,
Absolute Body Control,
The J.B.'s,
The Modern Lovers,
Whodini,
The American Breed,
Pole,
Black Sheep,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The United States of America,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Neil Young,
Niagra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ten City,
These Immortal Souls,
Shoche,
Visage,
The Trojans,
Isaac Hayes,
The Last Poets,
Grey Daturas,
Soulsonic Force,
the Germs,
The Misunderstood,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.