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 Malta and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Freddie Wadling to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Sugar Minott,
The Searchers,
LL Cool J,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Excepter,
Zero Boys,
Von Mondo,
The Dirtbombs,
Lyres,
Althea and Donna,
Japan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Laurel Aitken,
Aloha Tigers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronan,
Rapeman,
Terry Callier,
Lindisfarne,
Bill Near,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Whodini,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sun Ra,
Camouflage,
Sandy B,
Bobby Byrd,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Slick Rick,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funkadelic,
The Zeros,
Stiv Bators,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Raincoats,
Sixth Finger,
Girls At Our Best!,
New Order,
The Last Poets,
Niagra,
The Motions,
The Human League,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Red Krayola,
Sight & Sound,
Nas,
Dawn Penn,
Minutemen,
Scan 7,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Sherman,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.