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 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fatback Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Knickerbockers,
Henry Cow,
The Techniques,
Parry Music,
China Crisis,
Sonic Youth,
Ultra Naté,
Howard Jones,
Technova,
The Slackers,
Ossler,
The Gories,
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
The New Christs,
Bill Wells,
Danielle Patucci,
Moebius,
The Smiths,
The Five Americans,
Lou Christie,
Robert Hood,
The Grass Roots,
E-Dancer,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tom Boy,
Eddi Front,
Rotary Connection,
Roy Ayers,
Monks,
Bobby Womack,
The Invisible,
Siglo XX,
Silicon Teens,
Graham Central Station,
Boredoms,
John Lydon,
Wally Richardson,
Urselle,
The Names,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
Suburban Knight,
June of 44,
One Last Wish,
Wasted Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Spandau Ballet,
The Busters,
Moss Icon,
Isaac Hayes,
Unrelated Segments,
Youth Brigade,
Dual Sessions,
Stockholm Monsters,
Reagan Youth,
Schoolly D,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.