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 Argentina and from Beijing.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Excepter to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Rod Modell,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Toasters,
Mantronix,
Arthur Verocai,
OOIOO,
Dark Day,
Fat Boys,
Intrusion,
Lightning Bolt,
Massinfluence,
Crime,
The Smoke,
Half Japanese,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris Corsano,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Funkadelic,
Donald Byrd,
Connie Case,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minnie Riperton,
The Victims,
In Retrospect,
Pylon,
Young Marble Giants,
Radiohead,
Bootsy Collins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Public Enemy,
Average White Band,
Radio Birdman,
The Black Dice,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Remains,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lindisfarne,
Rapeman,
the Germs,
Whodini,
Soul II Soul,
Scion,
Rosa Yemen,
The Mojo Men,
Duran Duran,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Byrd,
Cluster,
Yaz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Rundgren,
Quando Quango,
The Gories,
AZ,
Andrew Hill,
The Count Five,
Dual Sessions,
Brand Nubian,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra,
Deepchord,
Franke,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.