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 St Lucia and from London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes 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 Franke to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
Youth Brigade,
Ten City,
Funkadelic,
Hoover,
Juan Atkins,
Colin Newman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warren Ellis,
The Gun Club,
The Tremeloes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deepchord,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Index,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Unrelated Segments,
Gichy Dan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Sherman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun City Girls,
KRS-One,
Bill Near,
Crooked Eye,
the Normal,
The Fire Engines,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Cale,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Certain Ratio,
Pussy Galore,
The Selecter,
Groovy Waters,
Henry Cow,
Pantaleimon,
Brass Construction,
Joyce Sims,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terry Callier,
Brothers Johnson,
Liliput,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne,
Spoonie Gee,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Red Krayola,
Neil Young,
T.S.O.L.,
Maleditus Sound,
Sonic Youth,
Visage,
Camouflage,
Main Source,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.