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 Rwanda and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 Procol Harum to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Bauhaus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bad Manners,
Visage,
Drexciya,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Moon,
Peter & Gordon,
Qualms,
Terrestrial Tones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cal Tjader,
New Order,
Y Pants,
Swans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sandy B,
The Skatalites,
Cybotron,
Rod Modell,
Pere Ubu,
The Angels of Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Style,
Easy Going,
Fad Gadget,
Mark Hollis,
Tim Buckley,
The Trojans,
Q and Not U,
Black Bananas,
Joyce Sims,
Rakim,
Lightning Bolt,
Malaria!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pagans,
Erasure,
Cymande,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Sonics,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mars,
The Smiths,
Television Personalities,
Glenn Branca,
Bob Dylan,
Judy Mowatt,
Fugazi,
The American Breed,
Mr. Review,
Alton Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Angry Samoans,
Talk Talk,
Jeff Mills,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.