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 Tunisia and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Trumans Water,
Nico,
Cheater Slicks,
Stiv Bators,
The Blackbyrds,
Skriet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Carl Craig,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-102,
Gang Green,
Josef K,
Agent Orange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Prunes,
Talk Talk,
Minnie Riperton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mantronix,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Grass Roots,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Young Marble Giants,
The Litter,
The Barracudas,
Reagan Youth,
Liliput,
Amazonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minny Pops,
Amon Düül,
Heaven 17,
Intrusion,
Henry Cow,
Robert Görl,
Robert Wyatt,
Hardrive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Germs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Womack,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
The Moody Blues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Radio Birdman,
Chrome,
The Fall,
The Raincoats,
Mr. Review,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brass Construction,
Suicide,
Easy Going,
The Count Five,
Harry Pussy,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.