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 Mauritania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ponytail,
Oblivians,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Zapp,
Section 25,
Barclay James Harvest,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ken Boothe,
Lyres,
Japan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cal Tjader,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pierre Henry,
Black Sheep,
Althea and Donna,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neu!,
Skaos,
Sparks,
Cecil Taylor,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nirvana,
Mantronix,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tommy Roe,
The Selecter,
Eddi Front,
Q and Not U,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
DJ Sneak,
Whodini,
Mr. Review,
Reagan Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hoover,
Suicide,
Nik Kershaw,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ten City,
Little Man,
Liliput,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pantaleimon,
Echospace,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Leaves,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Easy Going,
Negative Approach,
Average White Band,
Crime,
The Standells,
The Wake,
The Blackbyrds,
Blossom Toes,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.