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 Gabon and from Milan.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Grass Roots to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Lindisfarne,
Lalann,
The Slackers,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiohead,
Tres Demented,
Idris Muhammad,
Interpol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sandy B,
Organ,
Agent Orange,
Tropical Tobacco,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Siglo XX,
Deadbeat,
Qualms,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
B.T. Express,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ornette Coleman,
Byron Stingily,
John Lydon,
Quando Quango,
Spoonie Gee,
Dawn Penn,
Barry Ungar,
Loose Ends,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Zeros,
Trumans Water,
Amazonics,
Cecil Taylor,
The Selecter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roxette,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Moon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Anakelly,
Don Cherry,
David Axelrod,
Jeff Mills,
Dual Sessions,
Charles Mingus,
LL Cool J,
The Young Rascals,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Parry Music,
Silicon Teens,
Blossom Toes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.