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 Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gastr Del Sol to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fela Kuti,
Nik Kershaw,
David Axelrod,
Subhumans,
Bobby Byrd,
Altered Images,
Blossom Toes,
Tres Demented,
Skarface,
Panda Bear,
The Sound,
X-101,
Fluxion,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Trojans,
Soft Machine,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dave Gahan,
A Certain Ratio,
New York Dolls,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aloha Tigers,
Aural Exciters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sunsets and Hearts,
UT,
Crispian St. Peters,
Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Main Source,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Coltrane,
The Cramps,
The Cure,
Erykah Badu,
Rod Modell,
The Pretty Things,
The Golliwogs,
Magma,
Eddi Front,
The United States of America,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
World's Most,
Spoonie Gee,
Pulsallama,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Busters,
kango's stein massive,
Jimmy McGriff,
Public Enemy,
Jeff Lynne,
Scion,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.