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 Morocco and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The Litter,
Livin' Joy,
Accadde A,
Sonny Sharrock,
48th St. Collective,
Main Source,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mad Mike,
Second Layer,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Bar-Kays,
June Days,
The Tremeloes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Sneak,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stiv Bators,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mars,
Blake Baxter,
Arthur Verocai,
Nico,
Chrome,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang Green,
Intrusion,
David Bowie,
Brick,
The Modern Lovers,
Chris & Cosey,
Dennis Brown,
Ten City,
Man Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare,
Lower 48,
Ornette Coleman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rekid,
Adolescents,
Rakim,
Ituana,
Silicon Teens,
kango's stein massive,
The Human League,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Fraelich,
The Angels of Light,
Sarah Menescal,
Brand Nubian,
Gong,
Q65,
Alice Coltrane,
Angry Samoans,
John Coltrane,
Colin Newman,
JFA,
The Flesh Eaters,
Glenn Branca,
LL Cool J,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gap Band,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.