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 Paraguay and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the punk 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Soft Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
Pulsallama,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tres Demented,
Sarah Menescal,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
The Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
Radio Birdman,
Black Bananas,
Young Marble Giants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tears for Fears,
Yellowson,
Sandy B,
Derrick May,
Sister Nancy,
Spoonie Gee,
Jacob Miller,
Bush Tetras,
Harmonia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Half Japanese,
Bizarre Inc.,
Camouflage,
Bang On A Can,
Nik Kershaw,
Radiopuhelimet,
World's Most,
The Seeds,
The Last Poets,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Junior Murvin,
Los Fastidios,
The Wake,
Eric B and Rakim,
LL Cool J,
Iggy Pop,
Sound Behaviour,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arcadia,
Zero Boys,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers,
The Happenings,
Scientists,
FM Einheit,
Popol Vuh,
Skaos,
Grey Daturas,
Animal Collective,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.