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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Tommy Roe to the jazz 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Nick Fraelich,
Henry Cow,
John Holt,
Television,
Dual Sessions,
Matthew Bourne,
Average White Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Piero Umiliani,
Buzzcocks,
Slave,
Tropical Tobacco,
Swell Maps,
The Vogues,
Sister Nancy,
Accadde A,
The Neon Judgement,
Nation of Ulysses,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Kayak,
Fatback Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Görl,
OOIOO,
Cal Tjader,
Joey Negro,
Radiopuhelimet,
Von Mondo,
The Names,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Funky Four + One,
Loose Ends,
Charles Mingus,
Cecil Taylor,
Kas Product,
New York Dolls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Bananas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Schoolly D,
The Knickerbockers,
New Age Steppers,
Excepter,
Boz Scaggs,
Motorama,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Selecter,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fuzztones,
Groovy Waters,
Public Enemy,
The Blackbyrds,
Agent Orange,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.