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 Czech Republic and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Angry Samoans,
Stiv Bators,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Heaven 17,
The Sound,
Khruangbin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Charles Mingus,
10cc,
Au Pairs,
Livin' Joy,
Pierre Henry,
Kas Product,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cymande,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ken Boothe,
Cluster,
Clear Light,
L. Decosne,
The Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Names,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roy Ayers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Reuben Wilson,
Terry Callier,
the Germs,
Subhumans,
Arab on Radar,
The Beau Brummels,
The Associates,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Offenders,
Pulsallama,
Whodini,
Skaos,
Funky Four + One,
Sixth Finger,
Urselle,
Outsiders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
The Residents,
Johnny Clarke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June Days,
LL Cool J,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Erasure,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
China Crisis,
Average White Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Von Mondo,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.