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 Romania and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro 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 Warsaw to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
These Immortal Souls,
Soft Cell,
Easy Going,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deepchord,
Lyres,
David McCallum,
Peter and Kerry,
Amazonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Masters at Work,
The Litter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Drexciya,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Doors,
Derrick May,
Don Cherry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
D'Angelo,
The Victims,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dark Day,
The Golliwogs,
Lalann,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Stooges,
The Count Five,
ABC,
Pet Shop Boys,
Royal Trux,
Zapp,
Sandy B,
Main Source,
Section 25,
The Alarm Clocks,
ABBA,
Bootsy Collins,
Aaron Thompson,
Marvin Gaye,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sound Behaviour,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeff Mills,
Erasure,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
Gong,
Absolute Body Control,
Tomorrow,
Ponytail,
Matthew Halsall,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
B.T. Express,
Eric Copeland,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.