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 Jordan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Michelle Simonal,
Pylon,
Gong,
Traffic Nightmare,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scan 7,
Laurel Aitken,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Morten Harket,
Main Source,
Stiv Bators,
Soulsonic Force,
The Young Rascals,
The Grass Roots,
John Coltrane,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sarah Menescal,
David Bowie,
The Fortunes,
ABC,
Funkadelic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Babytalk,
Connie Case,
D'Angelo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Star Department,
Deakin,
Eurythmics,
Porter Ricks,
Matthew Bourne,
Rod Modell,
Swans,
The Gap Band,
U.S. Maple,
Black Flag,
Angry Samoans,
Minny Pops,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scientists,
Ultravox,
Albert Ayler,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Real Kids,
Bad Manners,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Searchers,
MC5,
Kool Moe Dee,
Moebius,
Donald Byrd,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Busters,
Black Sheep,
The Kinks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Accadde A,
Newcleus,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.