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 Swaziland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Jeff Lynne to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Surgeon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Agent Orange,
Ohio Players,
Pierre Henry,
Cheater Slicks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mars,
The Motions,
Rod Modell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cybotron,
Tres Demented,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Symarip,
Ludus,
Derrick May,
The Selecter,
Khruangbin,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Görl,
48th St. Collective,
John Holt,
Visage,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Christie,
Cecil Taylor,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Raincoats,
X-101,
Bob Dylan,
The Monochrome Set,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dead Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Godley & Creme,
Roger Hodgson,
Rosa Yemen,
The Blackbyrds,
Franke,
Oblivians,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter and Kerry,
a-ha,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fluxion,
the Slits,
Blossom Toes,
The Searchers,
Letta Mbulu,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül,
Q and Not U,
Kaleidoscope,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.