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 Russia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
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 synthesizer 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 Ralphi Rosario to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Scientists,
Yaz,
Stereo Dub,
The Selecter,
Shoche,
Rakim,
Gong,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soul II Soul,
Bush Tetras,
Main Source,
Mad Mike,
Boz Scaggs,
Pussy Galore,
Stetsasonic,
Model 500,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Wake,
Morten Harket,
Cybotron,
Fela Kuti,
Soul Sonic Force,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sam Rivers,
The Associates,
Sun City Girls,
Excepter,
The Gap Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Audionom,
Monks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
Suburban Knight,
The Busters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jandek,
Circle Jerks,
MC5,
Grey Daturas,
Chrome,
Stiv Bators,
Duran Duran,
Youth Brigade,
John Cale,
Das Ding,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Bananas,
The Velvet Underground,
the Soft Cell,
Alison Limerick,
Urselle,
The Knickerbockers,
John Holt,
Black Pus,
Soulsonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blackbyrds,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.