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 Angola and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Mr. Review to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Misunderstood,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slackers,
Archie Shepp,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
ABBA,
Pussy Galore,
Tubeway Army,
The Residents,
Terrestrial Tones,
Urselle,
Can,
The Associates,
Scott Walker,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sam Rivers,
The Moleskins,
Gang Starr,
Khruangbin,
Joyce Sims,
The Blues Magoos,
Girls At Our Best!,
Q and Not U,
Pere Ubu,
The Stooges,
Sparks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Warren Ellis,
Stetsasonic,
Rod Modell,
Ken Boothe,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pierre Henry,
AZ,
The Electric Prunes,
Moby Grape,
Procol Harum,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter and Kerry,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Remains,
Second Layer,
Pulsallama,
The Standells,
Mo-Dettes,
Juan Atkins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Absolute Body Control,
Scientists,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camouflage,
The Raincoats,
Gichy Dan,
Arcadia,
The Cure,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
London Community Gospel Choir,
EPMD,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.