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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DNA to the punk 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
David Bowie,
JFA,
Amon Düül II,
Rakim,
Chris & Cosey,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minnie Riperton,
Nils Olav,
Suburban Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joensuu 1685,
Loose Ends,
Bush Tetras,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mojo Men,
John Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Erasure,
Gang of Four,
Television Personalities,
Khruangbin,
Andrew Hill,
Average White Band,
Icehouse,
Hashim,
Pere Ubu,
The Pretty Things,
The Gladiators,
Cheater Slicks,
The Toasters,
Sound Behaviour,
Sex Pistols,
Derrick Morgan,
The Red Krayola,
Tim Buckley,
Wire,
The Cramps,
Donald Byrd,
Banda Bassotti,
Fatback Band,
Lungfish,
Echospace,
The Fuzztones,
Tropical Tobacco,
Main Source,
Tubeway Army,
Patti Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
Yazoo,
Depeche Mode,
Drexciya,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Angels of Light,
The Index,
48th St. Collective,
The Birthday Party,
Kool Moe Dee,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dave Gahan,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.