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 Chile and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Eric Dolphy to the crunk 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeff Lynne,
Cecil Taylor,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Pretty Things,
Arcadia,
Royal Trux,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quantec,
Barclay James Harvest,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sandy B,
Lyres,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gap Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kurtis Blow,
Dual Sessions,
Quadrant,
Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Tears for Fears,
Minnie Riperton,
Ponytail,
Symarip,
Surgeon,
Soul II Soul,
Sex Pistols,
Theoretical Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ludus,
Suicide,
Spoonie Gee,
48th St. Collective,
Nils Olav,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
Jeff Mills,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gichy Dan,
The Associates,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pussy Galore,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wolf Eyes,
Ohio Players,
Negative Approach,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jerry's Kids,
Rapeman,
Tres Demented,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.