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 Iraq and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Index to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Cale,
The Fortunes,
Heaven 17,
Monolake,
The Monochrome Set,
The Residents,
Bauhaus,
Minutemen,
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Basic Channel,
Yusef Lateef,
Lyres,
MC5,
Buzzcocks,
FM Einheit,
Simply Red,
Urselle,
Absolute Body Control,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Visage,
Mad Mike,
Tim Buckley,
Gang Starr,
Warren Ellis,
Fugazi,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agent Orange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Unrelated Segments,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Average White Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sound Behaviour,
Lou Christie,
Henry Cow,
the Bar-Kays,
Albert Ayler,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rekid,
Slave,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Foxx,
Kaleidoscope,
Aswad,
The Young Rascals,
The Star Department,
Q and Not U,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
ABBA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fatback Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fall,
Procol Harum,
Schoolly D,
Alton Ellis,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.