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 Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 The Happenings to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms,
Chris Corsano,
Lakeside,
Bob Dylan,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Desert Stars,
The Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Tremeloes,
The Divine Comedy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gong,
Organ,
Minny Pops,
Wally Richardson,
The Standells,
Rotary Connection,
Charles Mingus,
Darondo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barry Ungar,
Excepter,
Brothers Johnson,
Letta Mbulu,
Ponytail,
Max Romeo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suicide,
Spoonie Gee,
Davy DMX,
The Smoke,
Rakim,
Kenny Larkin,
Fad Gadget,
Roxette,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun City Girls,
Ken Boothe,
Kas Product,
Jawbox,
The Move,
E-Dancer,
Von Mondo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Guru Guru,
Surgeon,
B.T. Express,
Average White Band,
Franke,
The Monochrome Set,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cymande,
Derrick May,
The Monks,
Swans,
Jeff Lynne,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.