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 Portugal and from London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marcia Griffiths to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
This Heat,
The Gladiators,
Slave,
These Immortal Souls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang of Four,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Prunes,
Jacob Miller,
New Order,
Anthony Braxton,
Patti Smith,
Roxette,
Reuben Wilson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nico,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brothers Johnson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Drive Like Jehu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aswad,
CMW,
The Smoke,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kurtis Blow,
Marcia Griffiths,
T.S.O.L.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mummies,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Khruangbin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Prince Buster,
Hasil Adkins,
New Age Steppers,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lungfish,
Blancmange,
Suburban Knight,
Depeche Mode,
Archie Shepp,
Hoover,
Peter and Kerry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Durutti Column,
Grey Daturas,
Camberwell Now,
Sun City Girls,
Zapp,
Suicide,
Agent Orange,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.