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 Libya and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin 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 Dorothy Ashby to the jazz 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
One Last Wish,
Depeche Mode,
Moebius,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wire,
Vainqueur,
Joe Smooth,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
Fluxion,
The Velvet Underground,
Little Man,
Lebanon Hanover,
Big Daddy Kane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Joey Negro,
Boredoms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Skarface,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dawn Penn,
The Knickerbockers,
ABC,
The Doors,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Sneak,
The Leaves,
Urselle,
Siglo XX,
Sound Behaviour,
Cecil Taylor,
Liliput,
The Standells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Severed Heads,
Surgeon,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gun Club,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tomorrow,
Boogie Down Productions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Saccharine Trust,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Matthew Bourne,
Heaven 17,
Warren Ellis,
Barrington Levy,
Faust,
Howard Jones,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.