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 Libya and from Delhi.
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 Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Radio Birdman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Busters,
Das Ding,
Barbara Tucker,
Con Funk Shun,
the Human League,
Soul II Soul,
The Standells,
Essential Logic,
Brass Construction,
Agitation Free,
Black Sheep,
Second Layer,
Don Cherry,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Almond,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Matthew Bourne,
Chris Corsano,
Susan Cadogan,
Stiv Bators,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Christie,
Soulsonic Force,
Rufus Thomas,
Faraquet,
PIL,
Qualms,
Al Stewart,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Neon Judgement,
Monolake,
Tubeway Army,
Swell Maps,
Ultravox,
The Durutti Column,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fad Gadget,
Harmonia,
Dark Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brick,
Whodini,
Radio Birdman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Black Dice,
Sparks,
The Red Krayola,
Visage,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bauhaus,
Aaron Thompson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Banda Bassotti,
The Beau Brummels,
Kevin Saunderson,
Index,
Cecil Taylor,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.