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 Angola and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 China Crisis to the rap 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Womack,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marine Girls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Skaos,
Camouflage,
Underground Resistance,
Maurizio,
Scrapy,
Franke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television,
Trumans Water,
PIL,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronnie Foster,
Ponytail,
Gichy Dan,
Kurtis Blow,
The Standells,
Funkadelic,
Robert Wyatt,
One Last Wish,
Lightning Bolt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roxette,
Arcadia,
The Blues Magoos,
Donald Byrd,
the Human League,
The J.B.'s,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rakim,
The Selecter,
John Foxx,
Absolute Body Control,
Technova,
Anakelly,
Derrick May,
The Techniques,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Beau Brummels,
The Stooges,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül II,
Minnie Riperton,
Kenny Larkin,
Easy Going,
The Walker Brothers,
Moby Grape,
This Heat,
Mars,
Letta Mbulu,
Wasted Youth,
Goldenarms,
Minor Threat,
Marvin Gaye,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.