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 Chile and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 X-102 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Simply Red,
Procol Harum,
Unwound,
Roxy Music,
X-102,
Mission of Burma,
The Gun Club,
Skriet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Leaves,
JFA,
R.M.O.,
Eden Ahbez,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Index,
Masters at Work,
Average White Band,
Carl Craig,
Robert Wyatt,
Ronnie Foster,
Depeche Mode,
Soul II Soul,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Qualms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Man Eating Sloth,
Saccharine Trust,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Faust,
Gichy Dan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suburban Knight,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eddi Front,
The Dead C,
H. Thieme,
Bad Manners,
Aural Exciters,
Nik Kershaw,
The Doors,
Dawn Penn,
K-Klass,
The Saints,
Avey Tare,
Metal Thangz,
Ponytail,
Ice-T,
Angry Samoans,
John Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
The Electric Prunes,
Brick,
Gang Starr,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dual Sessions,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.