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 Sri Lanka and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Archie Shepp,
Pussy Galore,
the Swans,
Marvin Gaye,
Tommy Roe,
Spandau Ballet,
Angry Samoans,
Byron Stingily,
Bootsy Collins,
Avey Tare,
PIL,
Aaron Thompson,
Kaleidoscope,
Shuggie Otis,
B.T. Express,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cure,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fatback Band,
Alison Limerick,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Byrd,
Juan Atkins,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Red Krayola,
Con Funk Shun,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
R.M.O.,
The Monks,
The Litter,
The Human League,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Yusef Lateef,
Charles Mingus,
Boz Scaggs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Saints,
Ten City,
A Certain Ratio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Half Japanese,
Barry Ungar,
T. Rex,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sight & Sound,
Cameo,
Jeff Lynne,
Ponytail,
Junior Murvin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Steve Hackett,
the Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
Metal Thangz,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.