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 Finland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gories,
The Moleskins,
AZ,
Ash Ra Tempel,
E-Dancer,
Cybotron,
One Last Wish,
Khruangbin,
Lightning Bolt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Intrusion,
Cal Tjader,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tres Demented,
the Germs,
T. Rex,
R.M.O.,
Interpol,
John Lydon,
The Slackers,
The Stooges,
Maurizio,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
The Monochrome Set,
Royal Trux,
Pulsallama,
Quadrant,
Steve Hackett,
Liliput,
Bill Wells,
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Bourne,
Severed Heads,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yazoo,
Joe Finger,
Tommy Roe,
MC5,
Mantronix,
Andrew Hill,
The Music Machine,
Pylon,
Underground Resistance,
Franke,
Davy DMX,
The Kinks,
Bobby Sherman,
Lucky Dragons,
The Angels of Light,
The Wake,
New York Dolls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bob Dylan,
Spandau Ballet,
Byron Stingily,
Rekid,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.