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 Bhutan and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Fat Boys to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Simply Red,
Mark Hollis,
Tubeway Army,
Lalo Schifrin,
These Immortal Souls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Suicide,
Roxy Music,
cv313,
Stiv Bators,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Urselle,
Ultra Naté,
The Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Names,
Ohio Players,
The Music Machine,
Massinfluence,
The Selecter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Silicon Teens,
CMW,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Q65,
The Gap Band,
Graham Central Station,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Normal,
Blake Baxter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Section 25,
The Gories,
John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radio Birdman,
Barry Ungar,
The Searchers,
The Velvet Underground,
Television,
Bang On A Can,
The Neon Judgement,
The Monks,
Rod Modell,
Yusef Lateef,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Clarke,
Q and Not U,
Gil Scott Heron,
L. Decosne,
Boredoms,
Joey Negro,
Crash Course in Science,
Arab on Radar,
The Seeds,
Soft Machine,
Bill Wells,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Associates,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.