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 Mauritania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Ultra Naté to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover 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?
Tomorrow,
Eddi Front,
Albert Ayler,
Mark Hollis,
Johnny Osbourne,
Terrestrial Tones,
48th St. Collective,
The Seeds,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bill Wells,
Los Fastidios,
Wasted Youth,
Robert Wyatt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rapeman,
Ossler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amazonics,
Nas,
The Saints,
Con Funk Shun,
cv313,
Danielle Patucci,
Dennis Brown,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Red Krayola,
Newcleus,
Duran Duran,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blake Baxter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Bananas,
X-102,
The Five Americans,
Bobby Byrd,
a-ha,
Brand Nubian,
Joe Smooth,
The Fortunes,
Pantaleimon,
Q and Not U,
Icehouse,
Archie Shepp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Monolake,
Magma,
Isaac Hayes,
Minnie Riperton,
Quantec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radiopuhelimet,
Loose Ends,
The Barracudas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
AZ,
Infiniti,
The Buckinghams,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.