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 Namibia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bob Dylan to the rap 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Black Pus,
Rakim,
Tom Boy,
Connie Case,
Wire,
Buzzcocks,
Scratch Acid,
Qualms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Unwound,
Animal Collective,
Crooked Eye,
Derrick May,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Patti Smith,
Gang of Four,
Adolescents,
Kerrie Biddell,
Suburban Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
The Velvet Underground,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Human League,
Aloha Tigers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gong,
Depeche Mode,
The Remains,
Trumans Water,
Fela Kuti,
Freddie Wadling,
Harry Pussy,
Yusef Lateef,
Marine Girls,
Lakeside,
Charles Mingus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Clear Light,
Eric Copeland,
Bluetip,
Country Teasers,
Tears for Fears,
Cheater Slicks,
Livin' Joy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wolf Eyes,
Section 25,
Brick,
Desert Stars,
Siglo XX,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Wake,
The Fire Engines,
Marcia Griffiths,
Urselle,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.