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 Bolivia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 Johnny Osbourne to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Saints,
Fluxion,
Mark Hollis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
In Retrospect,
Lalo Schifrin,
Colin Newman,
Scan 7,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Spoonie Gee,
Japan,
R.M.O.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Anthony Braxton,
Sonny Sharrock,
Todd Terry,
Byron Stingily,
Lungfish,
The J.B.'s,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vladislav Delay,
Zero Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
JFA,
Guru Guru,
Peter & Gordon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lalann,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxette,
Alphaville,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
L. Decosne,
DNA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Trumans Water,
Theoretical Girls,
Scrapy,
DJ Style,
Circle Jerks,
the Normal,
Babytalk,
Bauhaus,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monochrome Set,
Terry Callier,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gap Band,
Wire,
Steve Hackett,
Piero Umiliani,
The Blackbyrds,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echospace,
Deadbeat,
Deepchord,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.