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 Rwanda and from Mumbai.
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 Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 Kerrie Biddell to the disco 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
La Düsseldorf,
The Move,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Zeros,
Organ,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Underground Resistance,
The Pop Group,
Thee Headcoats,
Althea and Donna,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lucky Dragons,
Eve St. Jones,
the Human League,
World's Most,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crooked Eye,
Sex Pistols,
Stetsasonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deadbeat,
Skaos,
Nico,
Don Cherry,
the Association,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Moleskins,
Drive Like Jehu,
a-ha,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dennis Brown,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aaron Thompson,
Flash Fearless,
Mad Mike,
Accadde A,
Zapp,
Yaz,
The J.B.'s,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Procol Harum,
Porter Ricks,
Half Japanese,
Lyres,
Ronnie Foster,
Thompson Twins,
Agitation Free,
The Young Rascals,
Joyce Sims,
Arab on Radar,
Pagans,
Alice Coltrane,
the Sonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.