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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin 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 Graham Central Station to the rock 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Malaria!,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yellowson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Monolake,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Godley & Creme,
Young Marble Giants,
Wire,
Urselle,
Erykah Badu,
Symarip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donny Hathaway,
Crash Course in Science,
Parry Music,
Janne Schatter,
Eric Copeland,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quando Quango,
Wally Richardson,
Marine Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Babytalk,
Fad Gadget,
Pole,
Unrelated Segments,
Talk Talk,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Index,
Minutemen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Martian,
The Move,
OOIOO,
Johnny Clarke,
Dark Day,
Isaac Hayes,
Vladislav Delay,
Vainqueur,
Visage,
David McCallum,
John Cale,
The Golliwogs,
R.M.O.,
Kaleidoscope,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Flag,
Donald Byrd,
Section 25,
Thompson Twins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Glenn Branca,
June of 44,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Qualms,
The Gun Club,
Patti Smith,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Stetsasonic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.