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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Banda Bassotti,
Connie Case,
Magma,
The Barracudas,
The Seeds,
Yellowson,
Zapp,
Bang On A Can,
Moby Grape,
Pierre Henry,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Angels of Light,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Names,
Second Layer,
The Monks,
Thompson Twins,
Fatback Band,
Tubeway Army,
Neu!,
Amon Düül,
Sex Pistols,
Mark Hollis,
Junior Murvin,
Sun City Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Germs,
The Motions,
The Grass Roots,
Yusef Lateef,
The Walker Brothers,
The Busters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nas,
Pole,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Music Machine,
Sällskapet,
Dead Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Chris & Cosey,
Big Daddy Kane,
James White and The Blacks,
Circle Jerks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boredoms,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Das Ding,
Buzzcocks,
Minutemen,
Jeff Lynne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Radiohead,
Man Parrish,
Ultravox,
X-Ray Spex,
MC5,
David Bowie,
Colin Newman,
Q65,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.