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 Saudi Arabia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 Dorothy Ashby to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Seeds,
Los Fastidios,
Freddie Wadling,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rapeman,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Banda Bassotti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Lynne,
The Smoke,
Skaos,
Barbara Tucker,
Fad Gadget,
UT,
Scientists,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Judy Mowatt,
X-Ray Spex,
Jawbox,
Minutemen,
Stereo Dub,
Al Stewart,
Thompson Twins,
Blake Baxter,
F. McDonald,
The Angels of Light,
Neil Young,
The Offenders,
10cc,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris Corsano,
Silicon Teens,
The Associates,
Au Pairs,
New York Dolls,
One Last Wish,
the Association,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marshall Jefferson,
a-ha,
June Days,
EPMD,
The Black Dice,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bad Manners,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alison Limerick,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The J.B.'s,
Bob Dylan,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.