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 Jamaica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Eden Ahbez to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
These Immortal Souls,
The Tremeloes,
Fatback Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Blossom Toes,
The Leaves,
Robert Hood,
Soul II Soul,
Rod Modell,
Dual Sessions,
Dave Gahan,
X-Ray Spex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roy Ayers,
Eden Ahbez,
Sister Nancy,
Ten City,
Ornette Coleman,
Saccharine Trust,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DNA,
Joey Negro,
Can,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Green,
Quantec,
Bobby Womack,
Brand Nubian,
John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
Ice-T,
The Kinks,
Dark Day,
Second Layer,
The Dirtbombs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fad Gadget,
Joyce Sims,
KRS-One,
Aloha Tigers,
Slick Rick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grey Daturas,
The Birthday Party,
The Standells,
Pantytec,
Derrick May,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Moon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Donald Byrd,
The Trojans,
Harry Pussy,
Swell Maps,
L. Decosne,
Rapeman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Banda Bassotti,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Toasters,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.