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 Turkmenistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Gang Gang Dance to the techno 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator 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 clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cal Tjader,
Visage,
The Mummies,
The Kinks,
Crime,
Sex Pistols,
Darondo,
Hashim,
Metal Thangz,
EPMD,
The Cramps,
Alison Limerick,
Sugar Minott,
Drexciya,
Suicide,
Con Funk Shun,
Moebius,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Reuben Wilson,
Essential Logic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deepchord,
Little Man,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Goldenarms,
Main Source,
cv313,
Cymande,
Stiv Bators,
The Searchers,
Crash Course in Science,
Ohio Players,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sight & Sound,
Skriet,
Hot Snakes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Maurizio,
Roy Ayers,
The Star Department,
The Walker Brothers,
Minor Threat,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
Suburban Knight,
Hardrive,
Arab on Radar,
Duran Duran,
Althea and Donna,
Fear,
The Wake,
Model 500,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sam Rivers,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.