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 Bahamas and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bill Wells to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick May,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gladiators,
Freddie Wadling,
Donny Hathaway,
DJ Style,
Absolute Body Control,
The Trojans,
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Monochrome Set,
Ronan,
Rites of Spring,
Black Moon,
Slave,
Fad Gadget,
Black Pus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Quadrant,
The Fugs,
Spandau Ballet,
Newcleus,
Metal Thangz,
Neu!,
The Leaves,
Pulsallama,
Peter & Gordon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Maleditus Sound,
Vainqueur,
The Walker Brothers,
Whodini,
Scratch Acid,
The Mummies,
Yellowson,
Skarface,
The Human League,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Funkadelic,
Dave Gahan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Slits,
Sun Ra,
Howard Jones,
Lakeside,
Magma,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Gang Gang Dance,
Adolescents,
Masters at Work,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Normal,
The Star Department,
Can,
Hardrive,
David Axelrod,
Buzzcocks,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.