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 the UAE and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Smiths to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Y Pants,
Lakeside,
New Order,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra,
Pierre Henry,
Kurtis Blow,
Don Cherry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stereo Dub,
Idris Muhammad,
Nico,
Cameo,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bill Near,
The Saints,
Cluster,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Severed Heads,
Interpol,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Organ,
The Victims,
Ten City,
K-Klass,
Nick Fraelich,
Sex Pistols,
Steve Hackett,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fortunes,
JFA,
Crime,
The Young Rascals,
a-ha,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ponytail,
Con Funk Shun,
Funkadelic,
Jandek,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Dolphy,
Grauzone,
James White and The Blacks,
Gang Starr,
Pantytec,
Tom Boy,
Yellowson,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.