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 Lesotho and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin 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 Mark Hollis to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Jesus and Mary Chain record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
the Association,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kerri Chandler,
Cal Tjader,
Ossler,
Scientists,
Stetsasonic,
Public Enemy,
Siglo XX,
Pantaleimon,
Technova,
Amazonics,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
Index,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Pus,
The Index,
Steve Hackett,
JFA,
Spoonie Gee,
Dave Gahan,
The Happenings,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Martian,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fugazi,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Second Layer,
Roxy Music,
MDC,
The Invisible,
Circle Jerks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Livin' Joy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Michelle Simonal,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jandek,
Easy Going,
Rites of Spring,
Swans,
Maurizio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mo-Dettes,
Lower 48,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Young Rascals,
Magazine,
Pere Ubu,
Mars,
Gabor Szabo,
Bluetip,
Au Pairs,
The American Breed,
The Flesh Eaters,
Davy DMX,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gories,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.