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 Liberia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 MDC to the jazz 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Roxette,
Lightning Bolt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Loose Ends,
Make Up,
Yellowson,
Eden Ahbez,
The Mojo Men,
Guru Guru,
Wire,
The Fugs,
Suburban Knight,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rosa Yemen,
One Last Wish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gang of Four,
Kenny Larkin,
Rapeman,
Bobby Womack,
Girls At Our Best!,
Symarip,
Lungfish,
Ken Boothe,
Ten City,
Yusef Lateef,
H. Thieme,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quando Quango,
Technova,
Freddie Wadling,
ABC,
Bill Near,
Erasure,
Royal Trux,
Slick Rick,
Monolake,
Hoover,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neil Young,
The Trojans,
Section 25,
Public Enemy,
Newcleus,
Jesper Dahlback,
Schoolly D,
Toni Rubio,
Scientists,
Iggy Pop,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
Graham Central Station,
Sonic Youth,
Deepchord,
Mars,
Eric Dolphy,
Second Layer,
Masters at Work,
Kerri Chandler,
James White and The Blacks,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.