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 Luxembourg and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gabor Szabo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
H. Thieme,
Derrick May,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kas Product,
X-Ray Spex,
Camberwell Now,
Lalo Schifrin,
Monolake,
Deadbeat,
Altered Images,
Amon Düül II,
Schoolly D,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Interpol,
K-Klass,
Eli Mardock,
a-ha,
Roxy Music,
Au Pairs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sonics,
Radiohead,
Boz Scaggs,
Brass Construction,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Motions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Matthew Halsall,
Alison Limerick,
Agent Orange,
Ossler,
Barry Ungar,
MC5,
Anthony Braxton,
Harmonia,
Niagra,
Judy Mowatt,
Marmalade,
Half Japanese,
AZ,
Sound Behaviour,
Alphaville,
Rosa Yemen,
Blossom Toes,
Sister Nancy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skaos,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
OOIOO,
Youth Brigade,
Urselle,
Brick,
Arthur Verocai,
Mars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Monks,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.