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 Israel and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Zero Boys to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
T.S.O.L.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Adolescents,
Bronski Beat,
World's Most,
Rites of Spring,
Barrington Levy,
The Moleskins,
Minnie Riperton,
The Litter,
The Star Department,
Tim Buckley,
Wasted Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gladiators,
The Walker Brothers,
Mars,
Eurythmics,
Parry Music,
Terry Callier,
Kerri Chandler,
Blake Baxter,
Infiniti,
The Red Krayola,
In Retrospect,
ABBA,
D'Angelo,
Pere Ubu,
China Crisis,
Sarah Menescal,
Symarip,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pole,
Half Japanese,
Au Pairs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Groovy Waters,
The Dirtbombs,
Scrapy,
Royal Trux,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Tremeloes,
Jacques Brel,
Fad Gadget,
Malaria!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Misunderstood,
Moebius,
Marmalade,
Depeche Mode,
Pierre Henry,
The Saints,
Ralphi Rosario,
Suicide,
Metal Thangz,
Donald Byrd,
Gong,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.