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 Czech Republic and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the crunk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Symarip,
Yellowson,
Parry Music,
Slick Rick,
Connie Case,
Skaos,
Lou Christie,
New Order,
The Kinks,
Eden Ahbez,
Royal Trux,
Gang Gang Dance,
Max Romeo,
Vladislav Delay,
Godley & Creme,
DNA,
Quantec,
Brass Construction,
Niagra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gastr Del Sol,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Raincoats,
K-Klass,
The Zeros,
The Blackbyrds,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-101,
Henry Cow,
AZ,
Wasted Youth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Model 500,
Negative Approach,
Altered Images,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Angels of Light,
Tres Demented,
PIL,
Gang Green,
Dave Gahan,
The Invisible,
Chris Corsano,
Black Flag,
F. McDonald,
The Mummies,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
Sonny Sharrock,
Radiohead,
Procol Harum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
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.