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 Seoul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 David Bowie 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 Soul Sonic Force to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Ossler,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dead Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Wings,
Marmalade,
Yaz,
Fat Boys,
DNA,
The Offenders,
Janne Schatter,
Hot Snakes,
Kaleidoscope,
Reagan Youth,
The Move,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Pus,
Yazoo,
DJ Sneak,
Marc Almond,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stereo Dub,
The Black Dice,
Sarah Menescal,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Womack,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lightning Bolt,
The Divine Comedy,
Masters at Work,
The Barracudas,
Soft Machine,
Harmonia,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Josef K,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Gang Dance,
Livin' Joy,
The Modern Lovers,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Moleskins,
Letta Mbulu,
Zero Boys,
The Selecter,
the Germs,
Marvin Gaye,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harry Pussy,
Make Up,
The Names,
Drexciya,
Youth Brigade,
Royal Trux,
Shoche,
The Seeds,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spandau Ballet,
Cecil Taylor,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.