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 Finland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Womack to the grunge 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Monolake,
Ornette Coleman,
Lungfish,
Bad Manners,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cramps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sight & Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Das Ding,
Popol Vuh,
The Moleskins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Michelle Simonal,
Porter Ricks,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Golliwogs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Von Mondo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Zeros,
Sexual Harrassment,
Big Daddy Kane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
David McCallum,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Victims,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
the Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
Charles Mingus,
Inner City,
Warsaw,
Cymande,
Magazine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bizarre Inc.,
LL Cool J,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Trumans Water,
Janne Schatter,
Make Up,
John Cale,
Scott Walker,
The Blues Magoos,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Sherman,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick Morgan,
The Divine Comedy,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.