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 Sierra Leone and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
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 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 Bob Dylan to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Bar-Kays,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lakeside,
Desert Stars,
Prince Buster,
U.S. Maple,
Faraquet,
Don Cherry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Moon,
Television,
Ronan,
AZ,
Public Enemy,
Blake Baxter,
Underground Resistance,
Janne Schatter,
the Human League,
Oblivians,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Circle Jerks,
The Offenders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Metal Thangz,
Moss Icon,
Mars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Walker Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pagans,
Quadrant,
Jerry's Kids,
DNA,
Warsaw,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cybotron,
Kayak,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Flag,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rakim,
Nas,
Minnie Riperton,
Massinfluence,
Lalann,
Tom Boy,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Camouflage,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fat Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
Shuggie Otis,
Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.