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 India and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 808 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 ABBA to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Fatback Band,
The Trojans,
Todd Terry,
The Zeros,
Wally Richardson,
Andrew Hill,
The Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
Clear Light,
Sarah Menescal,
Lalann,
Echospace,
Main Source,
Malaria!,
The Dirtbombs,
the Association,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tears for Fears,
Matthew Halsall,
Motorama,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs,
Television Personalities,
Adolescents,
Scott Walker,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
OOIOO,
Tom Boy,
Mandrill,
Hardrive,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kurtis Blow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ronan,
Fat Boys,
The Pop Group,
Kenny Larkin,
The Motions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Loose Ends,
The Remains,
Eric Dolphy,
Quadrant,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doors,
The Star Department,
Derrick Morgan,
Lyres,
Interpol,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eli Mardock,
The Pretty Things,
Television,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Khruangbin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Country Teasers,
Blake Baxter,
Joy Division,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.