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 Bhutan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Donald Fagen 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the electroclash 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sexual Harrassment,
Simply Red,
Altered Images,
Symarip,
Hasil Adkins,
E-Dancer,
JFA,
John Cale,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Blossom Toes,
The Electric Prunes,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
the Sonics,
Nils Olav,
The Golliwogs,
the Soft Cell,
Rites of Spring,
Rod Modell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Monks,
Smog,
Little Man,
The Standells,
Suburban Knight,
Ohio Players,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mandrill,
Camouflage,
June of 44,
Ponytail,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris & Cosey,
Jerry's Kids,
Skarface,
Barbara Tucker,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Subhumans,
Spoonie Gee,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
Darondo,
John Lydon,
Accadde A,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Starr,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cowsills,
Zero Boys,
Niagra,
Scion,
Ornette Coleman,
The Martian,
Japan,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.