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 United States and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Siglo XX to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Barbara Tucker,
Connie Case,
Drexciya,
Don Cherry,
The Moleskins,
Skaos,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Style,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Freddie Wadling,
The Happenings,
Adolescents,
The Real Kids,
Warren Ellis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
Tim Buckley,
K-Klass,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Move,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gerry Rafferty,
Heaven 17,
The Misunderstood,
Blancmange,
Hoover,
Cecil Taylor,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Babytalk,
Josef K,
New Order,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doors,
Main Source,
Jesper Dahlback,
AZ,
Rites of Spring,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fall,
E-Dancer,
Public Enemy,
Severed Heads,
The New Christs,
Iggy Pop,
Davy DMX,
Arthur Verocai,
Radiohead,
Dead Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Godley & Creme,
MDC,
Yaz,
Vladislav Delay,
B.T. Express,
Kool Moe Dee,
Trumans Water,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.