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 Oman and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bar-Kays to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Hashim,
cv313,
The Gap Band,
Public Enemy,
David Bowie,
Wasted Youth,
The United States of America,
Fluxion,
Sexual Harrassment,
Massinfluence,
Iggy Pop,
T. Rex,
Zero Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Susan Cadogan,
the Human League,
The Names,
Joey Negro,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
Wire,
Donald Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Pus,
Marmalade,
Black Moon,
Camouflage,
OOIOO,
Roxette,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scion,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Germs,
Tubeway Army,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Victims,
Cluster,
Depeche Mode,
Symarip,
Alton Ellis,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agent Orange,
June of 44,
The Monks,
EPMD,
Ultimate Spinach,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Sherman,
Jandek,
Little Man,
Japan,
Brothers Johnson,
ABBA,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.