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 Sweden and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 The Monks 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Frankie Knuckles,
Japan,
Wally Richardson,
Infiniti,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronnie Foster,
John Cale,
Scott Walker,
Sparks,
The Divine Comedy,
Lakeside,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ronan,
Tim Buckley,
The Alarm Clocks,
Animal Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
Buzzcocks,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Near,
Ohio Players,
The Slits,
Guru Guru,
L. Decosne,
The Gories,
Warren Ellis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joyce Sims,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deadbeat,
Loose Ends,
The Martian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Index,
Theoretical Girls,
Scion,
Maurizio,
Suburban Knight,
Desert Stars,
Yazoo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mummies,
Aaron Thompson,
Roxy Music,
Eli Mardock,
The Real Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
Tubeway Army,
Terrestrial Tones,
Franke,
Fela Kuti,
Josef K,
Section 25,
Maleditus Sound,
The Motions,
Vainqueur,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.