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 Swaziland and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '80s.
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 Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Cure,
John Coltrane,
Unwound,
Bobby Byrd,
Outsiders,
Alphaville,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Pole,
The Dirtbombs,
The Associates,
Yusef Lateef,
Rekid,
Index,
Television Personalities,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dead C,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barbara Tucker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delta 5,
Kurtis Blow,
Mr. Review,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Letta Mbulu,
Fat Boys,
Quadrant,
Trumans Water,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Misunderstood,
Niagra,
Marine Girls,
E-Dancer,
Gregory Isaacs,
June of 44,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Das Ding,
The Star Department,
Mission of Burma,
Colin Newman,
New York Dolls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-101,
Bad Manners,
The Fugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
T. Rex,
The Birthday Party,
New Age Steppers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Cell,
The Tremeloes,
The Litter,
Cluster,
Scientists,
Eve St. Jones,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.