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 Marshall Islands and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Robert Palmer 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 Ituana to the techno 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Infiniti,
Mantronix,
D'Angelo,
Hasil Adkins,
Liliput,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sister Nancy,
Grey Daturas,
The Mummies,
Josef K,
Oneida,
Con Funk Shun,
Carl Craig,
Ronnie Foster,
Rakim,
Jacob Miller,
Bill Near,
Tomorrow,
Godley & Creme,
Bill Wells,
The Slits,
The Blackbyrds,
the Sonics,
Wolf Eyes,
Severed Heads,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Lydon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joe Finger,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-101,
The Human League,
Terry Callier,
Skarface,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Y Pants,
Sonic Youth,
Iggy Pop,
Blancmange,
Radio Birdman,
The Litter,
Ornette Coleman,
Mandrill,
Tres Demented,
The New Christs,
Marshall Jefferson,
X-Ray Spex,
EPMD,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gong,
Jerry's Kids,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.