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 Samoa and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sugar Minott to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deadbeat,
Clear Light,
These Immortal Souls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barrington Levy,
The United States of America,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minny Pops,
Ohio Players,
Susan Cadogan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deepchord,
Scientists,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Agent Orange,
Big Daddy Kane,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Halsall,
Pole,
Ten City,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Standells,
The Fortunes,
CMW,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scrapy,
Yazoo,
The Fire Engines,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lungfish,
Talk Talk,
Magazine,
Prince Buster,
The Black Dice,
Intrusion,
Goldenarms,
Liliput,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gap Band,
Amazonics,
James White and The Blacks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slave,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lower 48,
The Golliwogs,
Joe Finger,
Morten Harket,
Von Mondo,
Bauhaus,
Gabor Szabo,
The Dirtbombs,
Joy Division,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agitation Free,
Ronnie Foster,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.