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 New Zealand and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Amon Düül II to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
T. Rex,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Machine,
Graham Central Station,
Gang Green,
Eric B and Rakim,
Susan Cadogan,
Fad Gadget,
Scott Walker,
Funky Four + One,
Spandau Ballet,
Hot Snakes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Con Funk Shun,
Kaleidoscope,
James White and The Blacks,
The Barracudas,
Silicon Teens,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pantytec,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Blackbyrds,
Alice Coltrane,
Khruangbin,
Juan Atkins,
Kurtis Blow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Germs,
Supertramp,
Ronnie Foster,
Metal Thangz,
Public Enemy,
Crash Course in Science,
Accadde A,
the Normal,
Junior Murvin,
The Raincoats,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erasure,
Connie Case,
Aswad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amon Düül II,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grey Daturas,
Babytalk,
Tom Boy,
Circle Jerks,
Brand Nubian,
Mission of Burma,
Easy Going,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fuzztones,
Reagan Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
The Neon Judgement,
Quando Quango,
H. Thieme,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.