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 Maldives and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the crunk 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smoke,
Matthew Halsall,
Los Fastidios,
Black Pus,
Niagra,
Sun City Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Ultra Naté,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barry Ungar,
Alphaville,
Massinfluence,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Swans,
Hashim,
Radiohead,
Supertramp,
Mars,
The Pop Group,
Yazoo,
Rotary Connection,
Con Funk Shun,
Kool Moe Dee,
Au Pairs,
Delta 5,
Harry Pussy,
Chrome,
The Last Poets,
Dual Sessions,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sound,
The Cure,
Lou Reed,
Deepchord,
Roxy Music,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wally Richardson,
The Techniques,
Byron Stingily,
The Zeros,
The Litter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skarface,
Wire,
Aural Exciters,
Slave,
Nik Kershaw,
The Golliwogs,
Malaria!,
Agent Orange,
Kas Product,
The Fall,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Interpol,
Intrusion,
F. McDonald,
Schoolly D,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.