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 Jordan and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Monochrome Set to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Black Moon,
LL Cool J,
Ultravox,
Buzzcocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Cale,
Swell Maps,
Todd Rundgren,
Wire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T. Rex,
The Searchers,
The Fuzztones,
The Skatalites,
Leonard Cohen,
Roger Hodgson,
The Five Americans,
Michelle Simonal,
Rakim,
Circle Jerks,
The Mummies,
The Black Dice,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Selecter,
The Cowsills,
The Mojo Men,
The Gladiators,
Skriet,
Hashim,
Rapeman,
New Order,
The Pretty Things,
Fluxion,
The J.B.'s,
Sparks,
This Heat,
Darondo,
Crash Course in Science,
Tim Buckley,
Brothers Johnson,
Steve Hackett,
Excepter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Junior Murvin,
The Pop Group,
Thee Headcoats,
Outsiders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sexual Harrassment,
La Düsseldorf,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Happenings,
The Young Rascals,
Dave Gahan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Half Japanese,
Au Pairs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dark Day,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nils Olav,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.