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 Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb 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 Fire Engines to the rock 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Bob Dylan,
Country Teasers,
Josef K,
Howard Jones,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rosa Yemen,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacques Brel,
The Fire Engines,
David Bowie,
Joe Finger,
Thee Headcoats,
Alphaville,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moebius,
The Cramps,
The Pretty Things,
Roxy Music,
Liliput,
Lungfish,
The Golliwogs,
Tres Demented,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sex Pistols,
Henry Cow,
Basic Channel,
Alice Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scientists,
Joey Negro,
PIL,
John Cale,
Chris & Cosey,
Michelle Simonal,
Index,
The New Christs,
Eve St. Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
Wire,
Anthony Braxton,
Vladislav Delay,
Banda Bassotti,
Silicon Teens,
Grauzone,
Todd Terry,
Severed Heads,
ABBA,
Jerry's Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lou Reed,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Beau Brummels,
Q65,
Hoover,
Graham Central Station,
Danielle Patucci,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Isaac Hayes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.