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 Eritrea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 EPMD to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Sex Pistols,
Fad Gadget,
Groovy Waters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
Royal Trux,
The Selecter,
Camberwell Now,
Roxy Music,
Johnny Osbourne,
Qualms,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Colin Newman,
Moby Grape,
Funkadelic,
The Pretty Things,
Crispy Ambulance,
Desert Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Franke,
Duran Duran,
Depeche Mode,
Alison Limerick,
Q and Not U,
Rufus Thomas,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Blues Magoos,
The Dave Clark Five,
Magazine,
The Residents,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lindisfarne,
Angry Samoans,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Divine Comedy,
Arcadia,
Fat Boys,
The Cowsills,
T. Rex,
New Age Steppers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Masters at Work,
Minutemen,
Byron Stingily,
Rites of Spring,
Bill Near,
Stiv Bators,
Unrelated Segments,
Cymande,
The Martian,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Toni Rubio,
Fela Kuti,
Funky Four + One,
Sparks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Chris & Cosey,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.