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 Tajikistan and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stiv Bators,
Piero Umiliani,
Hasil Adkins,
The Leaves,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scion,
Sällskapet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pagans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare,
Cheater Slicks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kenny Larkin,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed,
Scratch Acid,
David Axelrod,
Ken Boothe,
Swell Maps,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Searchers,
Grey Daturas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Christie,
Marcia Griffiths,
Public Image Ltd.,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gories,
Ten City,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Cameo,
Wally Richardson,
Section 25,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Khruangbin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tres Demented,
The Motions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Teasers,
New Order,
Bob Dylan,
the Human League,
Dave Gahan,
Unrelated Segments,
In Retrospect,
Robert Hood,
Mo-Dettes,
Grauzone,
Gang Gang Dance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
LL Cool J,
The Golliwogs,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.