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 San Marino and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Connie Case to the rap 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Byron Stingily,
Intrusion,
The Move,
Boredoms,
Charles Mingus,
Scion,
Rotary Connection,
New Order,
The Gap Band,
Mars,
Malaria!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roger Hodgson,
Index,
Bronski Beat,
The Saints,
Danielle Patucci,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nico,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bad Manners,
Shoche,
Robert Hood,
David Axelrod,
Man Parrish,
Dawn Penn,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
DJ Sneak,
Radio Birdman,
The Raincoats,
Urselle,
The Happenings,
Grauzone,
Sun City Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Boz Scaggs,
The Trojans,
DNA,
Jeff Mills,
Suicide,
These Immortal Souls,
Fear,
Blossom Toes,
Moss Icon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Simply Red,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Seeds,
Monolake,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Moon,
the Soft Cell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Infiniti,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.