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 Equatorial Guinea and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 K-Klass to the rap 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joensuu 1685,
Ralphi Rosario,
Max Romeo,
The Vogues,
Talk Talk,
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New Age Steppers,
The Music Machine,
The United States of America,
Warren Ellis,
Cluster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funky Four + One,
Morten Harket,
Peter & Gordon,
Leonard Cohen,
Joey Negro,
Visage,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vladislav Delay,
The Residents,
Country Joe & The Fish,
cv313,
Fear,
Public Image Ltd.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Shoche,
The Divine Comedy,
The Buckinghams,
Ken Boothe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Coltrane,
the Normal,
Subhumans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sugar Minott,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Starr,
Dave Gahan,
Crooked Eye,
DNA,
The New Christs,
Arab on Radar,
Eric Dolphy,
Massinfluence,
The Last Poets,
Harry Pussy,
The Blues Magoos,
Q and Not U,
The J.B.'s,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
World's Most,
Television,
Bush Tetras,
Sparks,
Colin Newman,
The Monochrome Set,
Popol Vuh,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.