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 Antigua and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord 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 John Foxx to the disco 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brothers Johnson,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Blues Magoos,
Goldenarms,
Al Stewart,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arab on Radar,
Jacques Brel,
Livin' Joy,
R.M.O.,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt,
Camberwell Now,
K-Klass,
The Gories,
a-ha,
Metal Thangz,
Ice-T,
The Music Machine,
Cameo,
John Lydon,
48th St. Collective,
World's Most,
Urselle,
Desert Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed,
Mars,
The Dave Clark Five,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Smiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Neon Judgement,
Chrome,
Robert Görl,
Depeche Mode,
Pantytec,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
Fatback Band,
Grey Daturas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scion,
Flash Fearless,
Spoonie Gee,
Scientists,
Swell Maps,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deepchord,
Darondo,
Donny Hathaway,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Hoover,
Michelle Simonal,
Heaven 17,
John Cale,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.