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 Angola and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Youth Brigade to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Y Pants,
Gong,
Crispy Ambulance,
Reagan Youth,
Goldenarms,
Graham Central Station,
Monolake,
Faust,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delta 5,
Ten City,
Jawbox,
Kenny Larkin,
The Pretty Things,
The Blues Magoos,
The Wake,
In Retrospect,
Reuben Wilson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Byron Stingily,
Sparks,
Scan 7,
Harry Pussy,
Darondo,
Kas Product,
Severed Heads,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Terry Callier,
The Misunderstood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joy Division,
ABBA,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wasted Youth,
Lyres,
Hasil Adkins,
Bob Dylan,
cv313,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
KRS-One,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
Susan Cadogan,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Supertramp,
The Vogues,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lou Christie,
Judy Mowatt,
Connie Case,
The Angels of Light,
Carl Craig,
Fela Kuti,
Soulsonic Force,
the Sonics,
Soft Cell,
Tears for Fears,
Donny Hathaway,
Bizarre Inc.,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.