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 Bangladesh and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grass Roots 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
U.S. Maple,
AZ,
Sarah Menescal,
The Evens,
Nas,
Mr. Review,
Eric Copeland,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cameo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Amon Düül II,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Symarip,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flipper,
The Invisible,
The Buckinghams,
Black Moon,
New Order,
Lou Reed,
Metal Thangz,
Lindisfarne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeff Lynne,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxy Music,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bluetip,
Vladislav Delay,
Stereo Dub,
Albert Ayler,
The Blackbyrds,
Agent Orange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Smog,
Connie Case,
Eden Ahbez,
Harmonia,
The Mojo Men,
Avey Tare,
Scrapy,
Grey Daturas,
Sight & Sound,
Animal Collective,
The Tremeloes,
John Cale,
Oblivians,
Cymande,
Underground Resistance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Schoolly D,
The Victims,
Sällskapet,
Sex Pistols,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Shuggie Otis,
H. Thieme,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.