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 China and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Neon Judgement to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
The Techniques,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Suburban Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Television,
Glenn Branca,
Eric Dolphy,
Janne Schatter,
Roxette,
The United States of America,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lakeside,
Echospace,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
June Days,
Television Personalities,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ossler,
UT,
Hoover,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-Ray Spex,
The Human League,
Scan 7,
Matthew Halsall,
The Invisible,
Bobby Byrd,
Khruangbin,
The Moody Blues,
E-Dancer,
The Last Poets,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joyce Sims,
Connie Case,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
James White and The Blacks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crash Course in Science,
The Red Krayola,
Sonic Youth,
Average White Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
AZ,
Second Layer,
Moss Icon,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Scion,
The Knickerbockers,
The Standells,
Sun Ra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stetsasonic,
The Buckinghams,
Von Mondo,
New Order,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.