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 Mali and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marine Girls to the rock 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The Gap Band,
Yazoo,
The Birthday Party,
Alison Limerick,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Association,
Nico,
The Neon Judgement,
Erasure,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The J.B.'s,
Prince Buster,
Cluster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nik Kershaw,
Radio Birdman,
The Remains,
Lower 48,
Motorama,
Amon Düül II,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minnie Riperton,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Second Layer,
Japan,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Flag,
Rod Modell,
The Dirtbombs,
Blossom Toes,
The Vogues,
Tears for Fears,
Bush Tetras,
The United States of America,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doors,
Average White Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Simply Red,
Cameo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Whodini,
Kerri Chandler,
The Raincoats,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Techniques,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Copeland,
Minny Pops,
The Wake,
Camouflage,
Crime,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sonic Youth,
Jawbox,
Television,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.