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 Botswana and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar 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 Guru Guru to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Black Moon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
JFA,
Warren Ellis,
Ultravox,
Connie Case,
Neil Young,
The Leaves,
Barclay James Harvest,
Duran Duran,
Traffic Nightmare,
Al Stewart,
Monks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Quadrant,
Gang Gang Dance,
DJ Sneak,
Lyres,
ABC,
Kaleidoscope,
F. McDonald,
Technova,
Circle Jerks,
The Fire Engines,
Skaos,
Dual Sessions,
Outsiders,
Ornette Coleman,
The Durutti Column,
the Normal,
Simply Red,
the Soft Cell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeff Lynne,
Dave Gahan,
MDC,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dark Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magazine,
Jesper Dahlback,
Chris & Cosey,
Wally Richardson,
The Gladiators,
Public Enemy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Black Dice,
Shuggie Otis,
Terry Callier,
Niagra,
Subhumans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Charles Mingus,
The Toasters,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Newcleus,
Bauhaus,
Reagan Youth,
Joy Division,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.