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 Kosovo and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Techniques 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
A Certain Ratio,
the Association,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Normal,
Skriet,
Blancmange,
Massinfluence,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Unwound,
Ornette Coleman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minutemen,
Mr. Review,
Davy DMX,
Rekid,
The Real Kids,
Deadbeat,
The Martian,
Eric Dolphy,
Scott Walker,
The Walker Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mo-Dettes,
LL Cool J,
Stockholm Monsters,
Michelle Simonal,
The Seeds,
June of 44,
Cluster,
Von Mondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Brick,
Quando Quango,
Sparks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
The Cramps,
Q65,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Doors,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Mills,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
E-Dancer,
Y Pants,
Lalann,
The United States of America,
Letta Mbulu,
Nick Fraelich,
Joey Negro,
Rosa Yemen,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Clarke,
Thee Headcoats,
Metal Thangz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.