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 Netherlands and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Desert Stars to the funk 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Scan 7,
the Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
KRS-One,
Freddie Wadling,
Cecil Taylor,
Dual Sessions,
Alphaville,
In Retrospect,
Connie Case,
Lyres,
MC5,
Masters at Work,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Excepter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ituana,
The Music Machine,
The Seeds,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gun Club,
Roy Ayers,
Fad Gadget,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim,
Ossler,
Accadde A,
The Moody Blues,
Man Parrish,
Gang Green,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
June of 44,
Dennis Brown,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Normal,
Visage,
Bill Wells,
Liliput,
Sonny Sharrock,
Desert Stars,
The Cowsills,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Warren Ellis,
The Kinks,
Kaleidoscope,
Marmalade,
The Index,
The Vogues,
Lucky Dragons,
Marvin Gaye,
This Heat,
DJ Style,
Black Pus,
The Durutti Column,
Procol Harum,
Mars,
The Blackbyrds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.