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 Ukraine and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Danielle Patucci to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
The Young Rascals,
World's Most,
Depeche Mode,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
DNA,
Make Up,
Suicide,
The Last Poets,
Loose Ends,
Minny Pops,
The Slits,
Popol Vuh,
Frankie Knuckles,
Freddie Wadling,
Alphaville,
Aloha Tigers,
The Index,
John Holt,
Tears for Fears,
Piero Umiliani,
Reagan Youth,
Black Pus,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young,
DJ Style,
LL Cool J,
Rekid,
Chrome,
Jacob Miller,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Mary Jane Girls,
June Days,
Essential Logic,
Stetsasonic,
Blancmange,
Pagans,
The Victims,
ABC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Symarip,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crooked Eye,
Saccharine Trust,
Gastr Del Sol,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Subhumans,
The Durutti Column,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Amazonics,
Bobby Byrd,
Graham Central Station,
Circle Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.