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 Netherlands and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Donald Fagen 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 Henry Cow to the disco 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Bronski Beat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The American Breed,
Archie Shepp,
Franke,
R.M.O.,
New Order,
Agent Orange,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Audionom,
Adolescents,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moby Grape,
Liliput,
Crispy Ambulance,
Underground Resistance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Prince Buster,
The Cure,
Niagra,
Steve Hackett,
The Count Five,
Depeche Mode,
Scrapy,
Ohio Players,
The Gories,
Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
Jeff Mills,
Al Stewart,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Golliwogs,
Porter Ricks,
Oneida,
The Zeros,
Todd Rundgren,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slits,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Young Rascals,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camouflage,
Boz Scaggs,
Joy Division,
The Human League,
Supertramp,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Byrd,
Harry Pussy,
The Pop Group,
Jerry's Kids,
Nation of Ulysses,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Bourne,
Bob Dylan,
Inner City,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.