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 Sudan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Janne Schatter to the dance 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Surgeon,
Smog,
X-101,
Roxette,
New Age Steppers,
Josef K,
Max Romeo,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Blues Magoos,
Arab on Radar,
Hashim,
Simply Red,
Ronnie Foster,
Sight & Sound,
Erasure,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Toni Rubio,
John Lydon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dave Gahan,
Skaos,
The Moleskins,
F. McDonald,
John Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Trumans Water,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Los Fastidios,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Modern Lovers,
Chrome,
Groovy Waters,
LL Cool J,
The Fuzztones,
Blake Baxter,
Roy Ayers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Inner City,
Aural Exciters,
Pylon,
Dual Sessions,
Hot Snakes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Severed Heads,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Prunes,
Sällskapet,
Janne Schatter,
Eric Copeland,
U.S. Maple,
48th St. Collective,
Mandrill,
The Vogues,
The Victims,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.