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 Australia and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Inner City to the disco 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Japan,
Pantytec,
Howard Jones,
Q65,
AZ,
Buzzcocks,
Spoonie Gee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Delta 5,
Jerry's Kids,
the Soft Cell,
Juan Atkins,
Stetsasonic,
Zero Boys,
Underground Resistance,
Gang of Four,
Panda Bear,
The Doors,
Danielle Patucci,
The Index,
The Angels of Light,
Ultra Naté,
Black Bananas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Swell Maps,
Max Romeo,
Eric Dolphy,
48th St. Collective,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Womack,
Bush Tetras,
Depeche Mode,
Johnny Clarke,
kango's stein massive,
Alison Limerick,
Bad Manners,
Hashim,
The Monochrome Set,
Desert Stars,
The Sound,
Rod Modell,
Vainqueur,
Mars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sister Nancy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pole,
Chris & Cosey,
Tom Boy,
Hoover,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joe Finger,
Rapeman,
Yazoo,
DNA,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Sneak,
Sound Behaviour,
Dorothy Ashby,
Symarip,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.