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 Zambia and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 B.T. Express to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
The Litter,
Franke,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Babytalk,
EPMD,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Morten Harket,
Dave Gahan,
New York Dolls,
Crooked Eye,
Lower 48,
Johnny Clarke,
Cameo,
The Trojans,
The Red Krayola,
Delon & Dalcan,
The American Breed,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
8 Eyed Spy,
Warsaw,
Tom Boy,
Mark Hollis,
Reagan Youth,
Swell Maps,
Monolake,
Subhumans,
Dead Boys,
Godley & Creme,
The Mojo Men,
Audionom,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Smiths,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
La Düsseldorf,
D'Angelo,
The Move,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aaron Thompson,
Fat Boys,
Black Flag,
Donny Hathaway,
cv313,
Slick Rick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Index,
Jandek,
E-Dancer,
Sister Nancy,
Suburban Knight,
Deakin,
Swans,
Max Romeo,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.