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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum 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 LL Cool J to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
ABC,
Eve St. Jones,
The Index,
Danielle Patucci,
The Remains,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pylon,
Franke,
Main Source,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dave Gahan,
The Wake,
Wasted Youth,
Icehouse,
These Immortal Souls,
The Residents,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Görl,
Fad Gadget,
Marmalade,
The Happenings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scott Walker,
Black Flag,
Jeff Lynne,
Juan Atkins,
The Slits,
U.S. Maple,
The Neon Judgement,
The Moleskins,
Animal Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Nirvana,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Accadde A,
Yaz,
Procol Harum,
Marc Almond,
Japan,
Warren Ellis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Human League,
Donny Hathaway,
Ken Boothe,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
Bang On A Can,
Arab on Radar,
Hashim,
Porter Ricks,
Q65,
Howard Jones,
Ornette Coleman,
The Barracudas,
David McCallum,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.