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 Lithuania 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Blancmange to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Bobby Womack,
Radio Birdman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fire Engines,
Wings,
Pantaleimon,
Sam Rivers,
Barbara Tucker,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
KRS-One,
Dual Sessions,
A Certain Ratio,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
LL Cool J,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül,
Reuben Wilson,
Yellowson,
The Sound,
Joy Division,
Infiniti,
Flash Fearless,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Motorama,
Judy Mowatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Althea and Donna,
ABC,
Derrick May,
Grauzone,
Pere Ubu,
The Buckinghams,
Camberwell Now,
Godley & Creme,
Gong,
Juan Atkins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Flag,
The New Christs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Carl Craig,
The Zeros,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Kinks,
Can,
The Searchers,
Sällskapet,
Roxy Music,
Soulsonic Force,
Piero Umiliani,
Vainqueur,
the Association,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deadbeat,
The Five Americans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Iggy Pop,
U.S. Maple,
New York Dolls,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.