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 Ivory Coast and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Janne Schatter to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses,
a-ha,
Dave Gahan,
Unrelated Segments,
The Moody Blues,
Yusef Lateef,
Gerry Rafferty,
Can,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Youth Brigade,
The Grass Roots,
K-Klass,
Sonic Youth,
Rapeman,
Adolescents,
June Days,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ronan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aswad,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wire,
Davy DMX,
Erasure,
Alton Ellis,
Scott Walker,
Lyres,
Pharoah Sanders,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Swell Maps,
The Move,
Grauzone,
Magma,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
The Standells,
Model 500,
Darondo,
Josef K,
John Coltrane,
the Swans,
The Tremeloes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Reuben Wilson,
Symarip,
DNA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
B.T. Express,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Kinks,
The Cure,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Maleditus Sound,
Yaz,
Stiv Bators,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.