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 Uzbekistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Slits to the grunge 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Inner City,
Das Ding,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Clarke,
Nik Kershaw,
Quando Quango,
Funky Four + One,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ronan,
Marvin Gaye,
Charles Mingus,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Real Kids,
Nas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joensuu 1685,
Rufus Thomas,
Nils Olav,
Scan 7,
Tommy Roe,
the Bar-Kays,
Sixth Finger,
The Index,
The Names,
Radiohead,
Toni Rubio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sister Nancy,
Yaz,
Popol Vuh,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed,
Parry Music,
Marmalade,
Howard Jones,
Fela Kuti,
Girls At Our Best!,
Loose Ends,
Mandrill,
Dual Sessions,
Masters at Work,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy Collins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
CMW,
Marine Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
Supertramp,
Guru Guru,
The Misunderstood,
Black Flag,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.