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 Monaco and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eli Mardock to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Rufus Thomas,
David McCallum,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Archie Shepp,
Eddi Front,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cluster,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Drexciya,
Soft Cell,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Clarke,
Lee Hazlewood,
Talk Talk,
John Cale,
Deadbeat,
PIL,
Reuben Wilson,
Camouflage,
Stetsasonic,
Ludus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
Arthur Verocai,
Visage,
Juan Atkins,
Sixth Finger,
Das Ding,
Clear Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Anakelly,
the Fania All-Stars,
AZ,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
June of 44,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Moon,
Suburban Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fat Boys,
Organ,
Joyce Sims,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mojo Men,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roger Hodgson,
Thompson Twins,
Saccharine Trust,
Rod Modell,
The Doors,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
FM Einheit,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.