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 Latvia and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Wings to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Los Fastidios,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amon Düül,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dark Day,
Black Sheep,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crime,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Green,
Malaria!,
Niagra,
Colin Newman,
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor,
Chrome,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Motorama,
Make Up,
The Fall,
Terry Callier,
Khruangbin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moebius,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doors,
The Count Five,
Bobby Byrd,
John Foxx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Human League,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rotary Connection,
The Fire Engines,
The Selecter,
Babytalk,
Public Enemy,
The Divine Comedy,
Lou Christie,
Little Man,
Lucky Dragons,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Neu!,
The Birthday Party,
Sound Behaviour,
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Monolake,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grey Daturas,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Sherman,
Average White Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dawn Penn,
the Sonics,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.