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 Paraguay and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Intrusion to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
The Grass Roots,
Brothers Johnson,
Sun Ra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Blossom Toes,
Jerry's Kids,
Swans,
The Names,
Moby Grape,
Henry Cow,
Lightning Bolt,
The Last Poets,
The Vogues,
Bill Wells,
James White and The Blacks,
Carl Craig,
Vladislav Delay,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faraquet,
Pantytec,
Sight & Sound,
Soft Machine,
Urselle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Japan,
Boz Scaggs,
Sound Behaviour,
Peter & Gordon,
Parry Music,
The Real Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Minutemen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Simply Red,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kerrie Biddell,
Junior Murvin,
Black Pus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pylon,
Bootsy Collins,
Jandek,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Schoolly D,
Mission of Burma,
The Zeros,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani,
Sällskapet,
Pole,
Jacob Miller,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
UT,
Masters at Work,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cecil Taylor,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.