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 Korea South and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Niagra to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
The Selecter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barry Ungar,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Slackers,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Bowie,
Lungfish,
Malaria!,
Pussy Galore,
kango's stein massive,
Trumans Water,
Negative Approach,
Clear Light,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swell Maps,
Chris & Cosey,
The Blackbyrds,
Maleditus Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Scrapy,
The Vogues,
Soul Sonic Force,
Visage,
the Association,
F. McDonald,
Desert Stars,
Y Pants,
Soft Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
Q and Not U,
Mars,
Franke,
Pharoah Sanders,
Icehouse,
Duran Duran,
Marmalade,
Schoolly D,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultra Naté,
Ken Boothe,
Idris Muhammad,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Angels of Light,
Bauhaus,
Masters at Work,
The Doors,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Simply Red,
The Cowsills,
Crooked Eye,
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
The Happenings,
Electric Prunes,
Section 25,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.