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 Mauritius and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blancmange to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Trumans Water,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kaleidoscope,
Pantytec,
Ponytail,
Fear,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Visage,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
James White and The Blacks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun City Girls,
Fugazi,
The Cowsills,
Rod Modell,
Absolute Body Control,
The Pretty Things,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Zeros,
Letta Mbulu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang Green,
DNA,
Altered Images,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ultravox,
The Red Krayola,
Jandek,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ice-T,
Wally Richardson,
Ten City,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fugs,
Swell Maps,
Crash Course in Science,
Sight & Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Ossler,
Suburban Knight,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Patti Smith,
Flipper,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Wake,
Radiohead,
The Searchers,
Index,
ABC,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tim Buckley,
Can,
The Remains,
Magma,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.