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 Yemen and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rock 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Supertramp,
Lucky Dragons,
The Searchers,
The J.B.'s,
The Music Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Soft Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joyce Sims,
Metal Thangz,
John Holt,
Alton Ellis,
Thee Headcoats,
X-101,
Rufus Thomas,
Andrew Hill,
Carl Craig,
L. Decosne,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ossler,
Crispy Ambulance,
Trumans Water,
Marmalade,
Gil Scott Heron,
David Axelrod,
Toni Rubio,
Cecil Taylor,
Harry Pussy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
ABBA,
Sonny Sharrock,
JFA,
Jacob Miller,
Visage,
Dave Gahan,
Motorama,
kango's stein massive,
Rapeman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monolake,
Harmonia,
Aaron Thompson,
Audionom,
Ten City,
Mark Hollis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Happenings,
the Swans,
Jandek,
Dead Boys,
Sugar Minott,
UT,
Chrome,
Loose Ends,
Yusef Lateef,
Banda Bassotti,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.