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 Liberia and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Enemy,
Babytalk,
Blake Baxter,
The Gun Club,
Young Marble Giants,
Suicide,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nation of Ulysses,
Depeche Mode,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sun City Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Pierre Henry,
Niagra,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
Juan Atkins,
R.M.O.,
The Fall,
Steve Hackett,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scratch Acid,
Albert Ayler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Whodini,
Idris Muhammad,
Ponytail,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wasted Youth,
Slave,
Cymande,
Cecil Taylor,
Darondo,
The Standells,
DNA,
Black Moon,
Derrick Morgan,
The Human League,
Black Bananas,
the Human League,
The Birthday Party,
Supertramp,
Lou Reed,
Graham Central Station,
Quantec,
Desert Stars,
Simply Red,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lyres,
Fela Kuti,
Tommy Roe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerri Chandler,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fortunes,
U.S. Maple,
Byron Stingily,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kenny Larkin,
The New Christs,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.