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 Botswana and from Toronto.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Durutti Column to the jazz 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
EPMD,
Motorama,
Organ,
Reagan Youth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alice Coltrane,
The Victims,
Cameo,
Joy Division,
David McCallum,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Maleditus Sound,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bush Tetras,
Livin' Joy,
June Days,
Icehouse,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Saints,
The Mojo Men,
a-ha,
F. McDonald,
Lindisfarne,
The Smiths,
John Holt,
Y Pants,
The Smoke,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mo-Dettes,
Joe Finger,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Qualms,
Barrington Levy,
Severed Heads,
Minor Threat,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
8 Eyed Spy,
This Heat,
Easy Going,
Blossom Toes,
The Divine Comedy,
CMW,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Animal Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cymande,
Eden Ahbez,
Soul II Soul,
Urselle,
Unwound,
Camouflage,
Masters at Work,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.