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 Sierra Leone and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Bobby Womack,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slackers,
Ice-T,
Malaria!,
Graham Central Station,
Dual Sessions,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ludus,
The Zeros,
These Immortal Souls,
The Moleskins,
Peter & Gordon,
LL Cool J,
The Grass Roots,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Loose Ends,
Section 25,
Colin Newman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kayak,
Henry Cow,
Delta 5,
Banda Bassotti,
a-ha,
Desert Stars,
Agitation Free,
Aural Exciters,
The Fortunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
10cc,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pussy Galore,
48th St. Collective,
Fatback Band,
Barrington Levy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Harry Pussy,
Angry Samoans,
Brothers Johnson,
The Move,
Ossler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Glambeats Corp.,
Buzzcocks,
The Residents,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Vogues,
Outsiders,
Matthew Bourne,
Accadde A,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liliput,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.