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 Vanuatu and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Walker Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Gong,
Lucky Dragons,
The Happenings,
Jimmy McGriff,
Leonard Cohen,
Anakelly,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Wyatt,
Susan Cadogan,
T. Rex,
Underground Resistance,
a-ha,
The Skatalites,
Juan Atkins,
Deakin,
David Bowie,
The Offenders,
Cecil Taylor,
June Days,
The Gun Club,
Arab on Radar,
The Leaves,
Urselle,
Tomorrow,
Flash Fearless,
The Velvet Underground,
The Selecter,
Easy Going,
Aloha Tigers,
These Immortal Souls,
The Barracudas,
Warsaw,
Parry Music,
Ten City,
Kurtis Blow,
Unrelated Segments,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fat Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Barrington Levy,
the Slits,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Motorama,
The Knickerbockers,
Banda Bassotti,
Oneida,
Bobby Sherman,
Magma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donald Byrd,
Pantytec,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gories,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Cale,
Marc Almond,
Black Flag,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cal Tjader,
Ultra Naté,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.