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 Denmark and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Offenders to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Scientists,
Inner City,
One Last Wish,
Cymande,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Womack,
Thompson Twins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Kinks,
Johnny Clarke,
A Certain Ratio,
Television,
Aloha Tigers,
Stereo Dub,
Don Cherry,
U.S. Maple,
The Standells,
Swans,
Roxette,
The Saints,
cv313,
Adolescents,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echospace,
Procol Harum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Metal Thangz,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sexual Harrassment,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MDC,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül II,
Aural Exciters,
X-Ray Spex,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Names,
John Lydon,
Erykah Badu,
The Moody Blues,
Toni Rubio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
D'Angelo,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sparks,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cowsills,
The Remains,
Graham Central Station,
the Human League,
Interpol,
The Techniques,
The Raincoats,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.