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 Monaco and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Last Poets to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Alison Limerick,
Sister Nancy,
Skriet,
Funkadelic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faraquet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
D'Angelo,
The Residents,
Isaac Hayes,
Schoolly D,
Ten City,
Lightning Bolt,
Nils Olav,
Tommy Roe,
DNA,
the Swans,
The Happenings,
Terry Callier,
Anthony Braxton,
Zapp,
Fat Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Al Stewart,
Dave Gahan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kurtis Blow,
Harry Pussy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pole,
X-101,
Darondo,
Altered Images,
Banda Bassotti,
Flamin' Groovies,
These Immortal Souls,
Nirvana,
Circle Jerks,
Stereo Dub,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Vladislav Delay,
June of 44,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cramps,
Visage,
Royal Trux,
Tim Buckley,
Deakin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.