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 Guinea and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Groovy Waters to the jazz 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Bang On A Can,
Judy Mowatt,
Eden Ahbez,
Jerry's Kids,
Drexciya,
Wasted Youth,
The Victims,
Metal Thangz,
Talk Talk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barbara Tucker,
Thompson Twins,
the Bar-Kays,
The Motions,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Amon Düül,
The Busters,
Cymande,
The Pop Group,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fad Gadget,
Robert Wyatt,
Barry Ungar,
The Young Rascals,
The Move,
The United States of America,
H. Thieme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Susan Cadogan,
Supertramp,
Desert Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Toni Rubio,
Maleditus Sound,
The New Christs,
Jeff Mills,
Crime,
Aswad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fluxion,
Thee Headcoats,
Qualms,
Fear,
The Real Kids,
Public Enemy,
Tom Boy,
Grauzone,
Lou Christie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Reagan Youth,
Magma,
Bluetip,
The Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
Aural Exciters,
Tim Buckley,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.