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 Micronesia and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Michelle Simonal to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
Masters at Work,
Sister Nancy,
The Beau Brummels,
Mr. Review,
The Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
Anthony Braxton,
Jawbox,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Trojans,
David Axelrod,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Yusef Lateef,
Goldenarms,
Shuggie Otis,
Qualms,
The Busters,
The Leaves,
Fugazi,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flipper,
Lucky Dragons,
Supertramp,
Tears for Fears,
Suburban Knight,
Josef K,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Grass Roots,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yaz,
Electric Prunes,
Index,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stetsasonic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harpers Bizarre,
Delta 5,
The Wake,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lindisfarne,
Deakin,
John Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quadrant,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Malaria!,
Ronnie Foster,
Chris Corsano,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Happenings,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.