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 Uzbekistan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 La Düsseldorf to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Newcleus,
LL Cool J,
Jacques Brel,
F. McDonald,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Saints,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roger Hodgson,
Smog,
The Grass Roots,
Shoche,
Spoonie Gee,
Carl Craig,
Derrick Morgan,
Kurtis Blow,
The Mojo Men,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radio Birdman,
Subhumans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
B.T. Express,
The Fall,
Urselle,
Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Audionom,
Anthony Braxton,
Don Cherry,
Pole,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Dolphy,
Duran Duran,
Moebius,
The Beau Brummels,
Wire,
Yazoo,
Quadrant,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Glambeats Corp.,
One Last Wish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
U.S. Maple,
The Selecter,
Drexciya,
Crispy Ambulance,
Derrick May,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Terrestrial Tones,
Susan Cadogan,
Wasted Youth,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stereo Dub,
The Slits,
The Sonics,
Pylon,
Average White Band,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.