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 Palau and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 linndrum 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 Eve St. Jones to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Das Ding,
Albert Ayler,
Soul II Soul,
Girls At Our Best!,
Zero Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
Tubeway Army,
The Martian,
Prince Buster,
Eddi Front,
Ponytail,
Black Moon,
Blake Baxter,
Mo-Dettes,
The Young Rascals,
Grauzone,
Al Stewart,
Masters at Work,
JFA,
Sällskapet,
D'Angelo,
Derrick May,
Y Pants,
Barrington Levy,
MC5,
Lungfish,
Davy DMX,
Dawn Penn,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Siglo XX,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Patti Smith,
Youth Brigade,
Harmonia,
The United States of America,
Sexual Harrassment,
New Age Steppers,
the Slits,
Scratch Acid,
The Walker Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
Donny Hathaway,
Radio Birdman,
Hardrive,
Piero Umiliani,
Nils Olav,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
Pere Ubu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
L. Decosne,
Brothers Johnson,
Procol Harum,
Alton Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
48th St. Collective,
Q65,
The Dirtbombs,
Nik Kershaw,
Desert Stars,
Joe Finger,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.