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 Congo 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Radio Birdman to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Moss Icon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Babytalk,
Popol Vuh,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
FM Einheit,
T.S.O.L.,
Scrapy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Janne Schatter,
Cluster,
The Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
These Immortal Souls,
Cheater Slicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Panda Bear,
Rhythm & Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Erasure,
Judy Mowatt,
Minutemen,
Dual Sessions,
La Düsseldorf,
Essential Logic,
The Beau Brummels,
Dawn Penn,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Sound,
Suicide,
Subhumans,
Kas Product,
Arcadia,
Susan Cadogan,
Pulsallama,
Shuggie Otis,
EPMD,
Black Pus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jesper Dahlback,
L. Decosne,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Görl,
Altered Images,
Josef K,
Mr. Review,
Robert Wyatt,
The Star Department,
Pierre Henry,
T. Rex,
Isaac Hayes,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Last Poets,
Bill Wells,
Wasted Youth,
Idris Muhammad,
Steve Hackett,
The Barracudas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rotary Connection,
Marine Girls,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.