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 Russia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Robert Palmer 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 the Normal to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Davy DMX,
Arcadia,
Joe Finger,
Darondo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vladislav Delay,
Soft Machine,
Barrington Levy,
David Bowie,
B.T. Express,
Black Pus,
Youth Brigade,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
Magma,
Maurizio,
Yusef Lateef,
Essential Logic,
The Knickerbockers,
Steve Hackett,
David McCallum,
Bobby Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Josef K,
Alison Limerick,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kurtis Blow,
Charles Mingus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed,
Mo-Dettes,
The Saints,
The Busters,
Alice Coltrane,
Swans,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roy Ayers,
Cameo,
Accadde A,
Rapeman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chris Corsano,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minny Pops,
The Happenings,
Colin Newman,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultimate Spinach,
The American Breed,
DNA,
Parry Music,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronnie Foster,
the Normal,
Drexciya,
Porter Ricks,
Graham Central Station,
The Motions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.