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 Switzerland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jawbox,
The Pretty Things,
Johnny Osbourne,
Matthew Bourne,
Joe Finger,
The Red Krayola,
Malaria!,
Scion,
MC5,
Cluster,
Buzzcocks,
Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cure,
UT,
Faust,
Black Sheep,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deakin,
Scrapy,
Guru Guru,
JFA,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Janne Schatter,
Scratch Acid,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Divine Comedy,
Can,
Erykah Badu,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monks,
Amon Düül II,
Steve Hackett,
Josef K,
Ultra Naté,
Spandau Ballet,
Radiohead,
Jeff Lynne,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Smooth,
Dark Day,
Harmonia,
H. Thieme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun City Girls,
10cc,
Kerri Chandler,
Sugar Minott,
the Bar-Kays,
Parry Music,
Lyres,
The Fortunes,
Ice-T,
ABBA,
Iggy Pop,
R.M.O.,
The Move,
Maleditus Sound,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.