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 Botswana and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet 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 David Bowie to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Rites of Spring,
the Normal,
Minnie Riperton,
Tears for Fears,
Dead Boys,
Make Up,
The Divine Comedy,
Cameo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Searchers,
Loose Ends,
Funky Four + One,
Basic Channel,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry's Kids,
Pantytec,
Donald Byrd,
Unwound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Easy Going,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Inner City,
Pagans,
The Fortunes,
Letta Mbulu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pierre Henry,
Faust,
Das Ding,
Lou Reed,
Jawbox,
Malaria!,
The Grass Roots,
Eric B and Rakim,
Slave,
Cal Tjader,
Amazonics,
The Angels of Light,
Oblivians,
Ultravox,
Royal Trux,
Nils Olav,
Laurel Aitken,
MC5,
Alphaville,
Rekid,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harpers Bizarre,
The J.B.'s,
The Monochrome Set,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Massinfluence,
Graham Central Station,
Pulsallama,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Can,
Deadbeat,
DJ Sneak,
Subhumans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stetsasonic,
X-102,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.