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 Uganda and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ 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 Chris & Cosey to the disco 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Marcia Griffiths,
Alton Ellis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Amazonics,
The Gories,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tim Buckley,
The Red Krayola,
The Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
Eric Copeland,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alphaville,
The Saints,
Graham Central Station,
The Velvet Underground,
David Axelrod,
Bad Manners,
the Bar-Kays,
Babytalk,
Michelle Simonal,
Can,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7,
Dennis Brown,
B.T. Express,
Dave Gahan,
Barry Ungar,
Tres Demented,
Letta Mbulu,
Barrington Levy,
Shuggie Otis,
Archie Shepp,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
Kayak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pussy Galore,
R.M.O.,
Surgeon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Monochrome Set,
Iggy Pop,
Fear,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James White and The Blacks,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Harry Pussy,
Althea and Donna,
Gang of Four,
T.S.O.L.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Toni Rubio,
Niagra,
Goldenarms,
Harmonia,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.