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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ 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 Albert Ayler to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Marvin Gaye,
The Monks,
Sonny Sharrock,
DJ Style,
The Durutti Column,
Chris & Cosey,
The Angels of Light,
Arthur Verocai,
Half Japanese,
Minor Threat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Qualms,
Idris Muhammad,
Byron Stingily,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kaleidoscope,
Tres Demented,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Cale,
the Swans,
Deakin,
Soul II Soul,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oneida,
AZ,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radio Birdman,
The Blackbyrds,
The Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sandy B,
Pantaleimon,
Thee Headcoats,
Model 500,
Harmonia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barbara Tucker,
Roxette,
The Searchers,
Livin' Joy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
Jacques Brel,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare,
Parry Music,
Minny Pops,
The Victims,
Pere Ubu,
The United States of America,
The Gladiators,
Severed Heads,
The Human League,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.