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 Israel and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Peter and Kerry to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
This Heat,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scan 7,
Brick,
Deepchord,
Slave,
Sun Ra,
The Gories,
Robert Wyatt,
Todd Rundgren,
Little Man,
Deakin,
Tom Boy,
Gerry Rafferty,
In Retrospect,
The J.B.'s,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jawbox,
Lalann,
Crash Course in Science,
Index,
Franke,
Negative Approach,
Brand Nubian,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Slits,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mummies,
Joy Division,
UT,
Agent Orange,
Derrick Morgan,
Steve Hackett,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Stooges,
Los Fastidios,
A Certain Ratio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kurtis Blow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Buzzcocks,
The Litter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sällskapet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Masters at Work,
Cheater Slicks,
E-Dancer,
48th St. Collective,
Ice-T,
Kenny Larkin,
Country Teasers,
Prince Buster,
The Modern Lovers,
Desert Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kas Product,
Radiohead,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.