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 Spain and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Parry Music to the rock 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Marmalade,
Subhumans,
Tears for Fears,
Q and Not U,
The Gladiators,
Television Personalities,
The Monochrome Set,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Germs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Little Man,
Yusef Lateef,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mandrill,
Black Sheep,
The Evens,
Pussy Galore,
The Litter,
Urselle,
Blancmange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wolf Eyes,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül II,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
Man Parrish,
The Searchers,
Whodini,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harmonia,
Ultra Naté,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
OOIOO,
Section 25,
Kool Moe Dee,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Vogues,
Bluetip,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suburban Knight,
Skaos,
Rakim,
The Move,
Slave,
The Moleskins,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Womack,
Throbbing Gristle,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Idris Muhammad,
A Certain Ratio,
Cecil Taylor,
Fatback Band,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.