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 Fiji and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
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 marimba 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Sun City Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Litter,
Joy Division,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeff Lynne,
Quadrant,
The Music Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
John Holt,
The Remains,
Davy DMX,
Darondo,
the Human League,
The Dave Clark Five,
Smog,
JFA,
The Wake,
Spoonie Gee,
Slick Rick,
Franke,
The Associates,
The Standells,
Neil Young,
cv313,
The Happenings,
The Doors,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Last Poets,
Los Fastidios,
Fluxion,
Lou Christie,
Erasure,
The Residents,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Warren Ellis,
Public Enemy,
Jacob Miller,
China Crisis,
Toni Rubio,
Alphaville,
Pierre Henry,
Brothers Johnson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Magma,
Popol Vuh,
The Invisible,
Colin Newman,
X-102,
Sound Behaviour,
Angry Samoans,
Susan Cadogan,
Erykah Badu,
Bill Near,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeff Mills,
Jacques Brel,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.