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 Ecuador and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Camouflage to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joey Negro,
Vainqueur,
The Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Supertramp,
Faraquet,
Roger Hodgson,
The Wake,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Television,
Crooked Eye,
Fela Kuti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Move,
Tim Buckley,
Colin Newman,
Alice Coltrane,
Faust,
Rites of Spring,
Piero Umiliani,
Man Parrish,
Marvin Gaye,
Mark Hollis,
Blossom Toes,
Peter & Gordon,
The Motions,
Sällskapet,
The Blackbyrds,
CMW,
Erykah Badu,
Toni Rubio,
Joensuu 1685,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
DJ Sneak,
Skarface,
Steve Hackett,
Popol Vuh,
Johnny Clarke,
48th St. Collective,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Easy Going,
Nas,
Procol Harum,
Nation of Ulysses,
D'Angelo,
Scientists,
Ituana,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pagans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Josef K,
Ronan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Litter,
Rufus Thomas,
H. Thieme,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.