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 Suriname and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 The Leaves to the grime 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
The Index,
Pulsallama,
Bluetip,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cowsills,
the Bar-Kays,
Can,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Green,
Marc Almond,
Robert Hood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Massinfluence,
Cymande,
Faust,
Nick Fraelich,
The Offenders,
Lou Christie,
The New Christs,
the Swans,
Moebius,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Shoche,
The Moody Blues,
Black Bananas,
The Residents,
A Certain Ratio,
Masters at Work,
Minor Threat,
Brass Construction,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Searchers,
Funkadelic,
Pole,
The Modern Lovers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crash Course in Science,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rekid,
A Flock of Seagulls,
James White and The Blacks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mission of Burma,
Fad Gadget,
Minutemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Ornette Coleman,
Anakelly,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warren Ellis,
These Immortal Souls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lakeside,
Joy Division,
Black Sheep,
Scientists,
Livin' Joy,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.