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 Antigua and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 Soul Sonic Force 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The United States of America,
Cal Tjader,
Main Source,
Dark Day,
Graham Central Station,
Banda Bassotti,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alphaville,
The Dead C,
Chris & Cosey,
Whodini,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eden Ahbez,
Monolake,
Das Ding,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grey Daturas,
Peter & Gordon,
Sugar Minott,
Black Pus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Shoche,
Mantronix,
China Crisis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Country Teasers,
Brand Nubian,
Boredoms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aural Exciters,
Metal Thangz,
Faust,
Tears for Fears,
Eurythmics,
Gang Starr,
Joe Smooth,
Intrusion,
Marshall Jefferson,
Simply Red,
Echospace,
Drexciya,
K-Klass,
Porter Ricks,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cameo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rosa Yemen,
Howard Jones,
Gichy Dan,
B.T. Express,
Blossom Toes,
The Monochrome Set,
the Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.