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 Belize and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Supertramp to the disco 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
The Selecter,
The Buckinghams,
China Crisis,
Aural Exciters,
Sam Rivers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Lydon,
The Motions,
The Angels of Light,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Junior Murvin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kayak,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun Ra,
Leonard Cohen,
Qualms,
Camberwell Now,
Stetsasonic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Saccharine Trust,
Aloha Tigers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barry Ungar,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Henry Cow,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Durutti Column,
Lalann,
Mr. Review,
Sister Nancy,
Soft Cell,
Visage,
Gang of Four,
Ronan,
Peter and Kerry,
Fad Gadget,
Sugar Minott,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stockholm Monsters,
Banda Bassotti,
Chris & Cosey,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nirvana,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tom Boy,
Fat Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
MC5,
Franke,
Thompson Twins,
L. Decosne,
Tres Demented,
Minor Threat,
Organ,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABC,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.