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 Paris.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 June of 44 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Juan Atkins,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Blackbyrds,
X-102,
The Gun Club,
Toni Rubio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Average White Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Star Department,
Gang Starr,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alphaville,
Minutemen,
The Mojo Men,
The Smiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
Icehouse,
X-101,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hasil Adkins,
Mo-Dettes,
Agitation Free,
Qualms,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Wells,
Wolf Eyes,
The Vogues,
John Lydon,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Finger,
Man Eating Sloth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Seeds,
Judy Mowatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Görl,
Joy Division,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
Blossom Toes,
Suicide,
Severed Heads,
Nico,
Brick,
A Certain Ratio,
Duran Duran,
Gang Gang Dance,
Radio Birdman,
The Count Five,
Terry Callier,
Sun City Girls,
The Zeros,
Amon Düül II,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.