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 Moldova and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 FM Einheit to the jazz 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian 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?
In Retrospect,
Ice-T,
The Selecter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lalann,
Black Moon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Blues Magoos,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Max Romeo,
Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
UT,
Bob Dylan,
Nik Kershaw,
Spoonie Gee,
T. Rex,
The Kinks,
The Gladiators,
Angry Samoans,
Icehouse,
Bobby Byrd,
The Modern Lovers,
The Count Five,
Josef K,
Mantronix,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Durutti Column,
Intrusion,
Graham Central Station,
Pussy Galore,
Albert Ayler,
Minor Threat,
Anakelly,
Grauzone,
Spandau Ballet,
Tommy Roe,
Clear Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dawn Penn,
Monolake,
Barry Ungar,
Kurtis Blow,
X-102,
Scan 7,
Aaron Thompson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jeff Mills,
Tears for Fears,
Tubeway Army,
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
Quadrant,
Man Parrish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jandek,
John Lydon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brass Construction,
the Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.